


Prison Style

by LauraSFox



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, First Time, M/M, Mafia AU, Prison AU, Yurio is of legal age
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-11-07 08:58:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11055651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LauraSFox/pseuds/LauraSFox
Summary: Yuuri Katsuki is at a crossroads in his life. Sent to entertain a dangerous man in an equally dangerous environment, aka prison, to save his parents' onsen from loan sharks, he thinks this is the beginning of the end. Yet, meeting Viktor Nikiforov makes his whole world shake and he doesn't know what to think anymore. Or if mafia bosses, locked up for who knows what, are supposed to be this sexy.





	1. Conjugal Visit

Yuuri Katsuki wrapped his body tightly in the white gown that was supposed to look like a kimono, but only he knew it was far from being anything like the real deal. For starters, beneath it he was completely naked. He sighed. It was only befitting for a sacrifice, which he was supposed to be. They could think anything they wanted. He had made his choice. The pay had been enough to save the onsen and no one had to know about it. Those involved in this kind of business knew very well how important discretion was, so he had no worries someone was going to tell his friends or family.

The world he was prepared to walk in was completely different from the one he was used to living in. By all means, he was a tresspasser, one who was not supposed to walk right into the underworld. Sometimes, however, there were moments when the two worlds collided, like when loan sharks had visited the onsen and trashed the place in warning. Yuuri had been made an offer he could not refuse and he had taken it. His parents had no idea. Mari, either. They just received the message that their loan had been paid. Yuuri was not directly involved and no one had to know.

He pushed his fingers through his hair, combing it back, trying to make it behave. A look in the mirror confirmed that he looked much better this way. Even ... sexy. And that was the whole point. The lack of glasses was an inconvenience, but it was not like he needed them where he was going. What he needed to do was to convince the man he was going to see that he had been worth spending five million yen on his sorry ass.

His lips quirked in a bitter smile. When had he become so cynical? He had to be, given the circumstances. He had never imagined that he was going to sell his virginity to a stranger to save his parents' business. Or that someone was willing to pay for such a thing ... for him.

He glared at his own reflection in the mirror. Apparently, someone had taken a look at him and had seen a different Yuuri behind his glasses and baggy clothes. Of course, he was told to lose weight and for weeks, he had been dieting, making his mom worry that he was sick or something. As a former figure skating, he had nicely sculpted muscles and, when he had been forced to undress in front of the buyers, the tight lipped woman who spoke some foreign language he could not really say whether it was Russian or some other Slavic language, had poked him right in the belly. He didn't need any explanation to know what that meant.

The only times when he used to be so in shape had been when he was still a professional athlete. At 23, with no memorable medals to show, he was nothing but a young man from a mountain village. When he had been asked about his sexual expertise, the blush on his cheeks and the way he stuttered had been enough to tell them what they needed to know. The woman had then spoken in broken English and told him that his value went up because he was untouched. That meant his parents were going to receive some extra money for the damages, too.

He had lied to them, telling them that he found a job in a distant city. He basically lived in a small flat, somewhere close to the facility he was going to visit regularly twice a week, for the next year or so. That, if the man liked him. He hoped the guy was going to, yet he dreaded it. Meeting a Russian mafia boss and letting him do intimate things to him were not exactly high on the list of things he ever wanted to do. 

The people he had been in contact with so far seemed cold and efficient. He hoped the man behind bars he had to act as a plaything for, was the same. If he kept things short and uncomplicated, Yuuri did not have to hurt much.

His fingers trembled. It was going to hurt, that he knew. And, although it had not crossed his mind, he had been forbidden to stretch himself prior to his first visit.

He took the satin white sleepers from their box and put them in his feet. At least, the waxing process had not been too traumatizing. Yuuri barely had any hair on his body, and the little bush above his sex had been just a little trimmed. Apparently, the mobster had pretty clear preferences when it came to his toys.

The car was already waiting for him outside. Taking a long coat over his thin gown, he went downstairs, ready or not quite so, to meet his destiny.

 

****

The prison building was grey on the outside, protected by barbed wire and towers with armed guards. Yuuri went through the motions and soon he was just at the entrance to an area called GenPop. A feeling of foreboding suddenly gripped his insides. Wasn't this supposed to be a conjugal? Somewhere where he and the man he was visiting could get a little reprieve and privacy from so many eyes?

When he was pushed through the door, together with two other young men who seemed to be there for the same purpose, judging by their scanty clothes, Yuuri felt fear, raw and powerful. He had not expected this.

There were catcalls and whistles and yelling, as inmates rattled their cages, screaming all kinds of obscenities at the small group. Yuuri cast his eyes down fast, willing his heart to slow down its beating. Was this some kind of sick joke?

He realized that he had reached his destination, only when the guard next to him yelled.

"Open on 88!"

He raised his eyes, as the door opened automatically and he stared, through the bars, at the man inside. He looked young, awfully young and he was wearing a scowl on his face. His hair was blond and a bit too long, and his green eyes were all fire. Yuuri bowed and he was about to say something, when the guard that was keeping him by his arm spoke again.

"Plisetsky, move your ass."

"Boss said I could watch," the blond kid said with a sneer.

"No, he didn't. Now, move. It's time for training."

The blond rolled his eyes and, on his way out, he brushed by Yuuri. Although shorter, the kid looked at Yuuri like he was superior in every way. Yuuri chose to carefully avert his eyes.

"Yeah, I thought so, pig," the boy spat before eventually going out of the cell.

***

 

Yuuri was confused. He was already waiting for half an hour and there was no sign of the man he was supposed to meet. He stood on the edge of the bottom bunk bed, trying to take up as little space as possible. His palms were getting sweaty and he could not wipe them on the silk gown. The spots would have looked like an offense.

"Open on 88!" A guard yelled, startling Yuuri.

He stood up quickly to find himself face to face with a tall graceful man, dressed in a light blue sweater and what looked like high quality black designer pants. The man had silver hair and eyes blue like ice. But they were not cold, Yuuri noticed, before casting his eyes down and held his gaze trained on the man's perfectly lacquered shoes.

The door to the cell closed again, leaving Yuuri alone with the handsome stranger. Cool fingers gently tipped his chin and Yuuri almost gasped. The man was nodding and smiling, apparently pleased with what he was seeing. He averted his eyes, conscious that he was staring, drawn like a moth to a flame by the man's incredible beauty.

"You must be Yuuri," the man spoke.

His voice was warm, too, calm and collected. The heavy Russian accent was there, but somewhat it made Yuuri feel like the words were directed straight at him, like the man was already trying to seduce him. Yuuri doubted he had a thing for foreign accents. Or for men with silver hair and ice like eyes that still glittered with warmth.

Yuuri was pulled into a small hug that made him instantly forget about the cold outside. Then the man took his right hand and placed a kiss on his knuckles, making him blush.

"I am Viktor Nikiforov and extremely pleased of making your acquaintance."

"I am Yuuri Katsuki," the Japanese hurried to reply.

"I know," Viktor said with a small laugh and Yuuri realized too lately how stupid he might have sounded. "Please, join me for a small refreshment. I am terribly sorry for being late on our first date."

"Do not worry, I was not inconvenienced in any way. Please take good care of me," Yuuri bowed as much as he could, given the very tight space at their disposal.

He followed Viktor at the back of the cell, where on a small table there were placed two covered plates accompanied by cloth napkins and what looked like silver cutlery. Yuuri's jaw went slack. How did he miss that? He had been too busy being scared, most probably.

"I hope you will find the food satisfactory," Viktor spoke as he guided Yuuri to sit on a chair and he sat across from him. "Cold meals are barely palatable, but nothing a drop of vodka and pleasant company won't fix."

Viktor produced a bottle from under the bed and filled two small glasses. His hands were smooth and elegant and Yuuri was wondering how they must feel on his skin. A small shudder of fear and excitement coursed through him.

The prisoner brought his glass to his lips and gestured for Yuuri to grab his own.

"How do you say in Japan? Kanpai!" he said and threw the glass back in one go.

Yuuri followed his example, but a bout of coughing made him slam the empty glass against the table. 

Viktor laughed whole heartedly.

"Not used to hard liquor? I thought all Japanese drank sake."

"Not a big fan," Yuuri managed as soon as he regained his voice.

"So Yuuri, what do you do?" Viktor asked as he took the napkin from the table and placed it on his lap. 

Yuuri followed his example, stalling for time. Something was telling him that admitting to the guy that the current thing he was doing was whoring for the mafia was not going to sit well with his host. People always wanted to pretend. To pretend they were not evil, although that could not be a tag he wished to apply to Viktor Nikiforov. The man seemed anything but, yet appearances could fool someone as little versed in the ways of the world such as him.

"I am currently unemployed," he settled for what was actually the truth.

"I'm sorry, I think my English is a bit rusty. What I meant to say was what do you like to do?"

"Oh, figure skating," Yuuri said quickly, immediately regretting his words.

Wasn't this supposed to be about a quick fuck? And there he was, telling this stranger about his longtime passion.

"That is very interesting," Viktor smiled charmingly. "In Russia, we have great skaters. It's practically a religion there."

"I know. The ones I admire most are Russians," Yuuri admitted. "There are hardly any skaters who could live up to the standards imposed by the Russian school."

"I see you are good at flattery," Viktor refilled his glass and with a sure hand, he refilled Yuuri's glass, too.

"It's not flattery, it's the truth!" he exclaimed and quickly recollected himself. "I terribly apologize."

Viktor extended one arm and caressed Yuuri's face gently.

"No need to. I like your fire."

They spent the rest of the meal in silence, Yuuri almost trembling with his own audacity of contradicting the man. The food was great, but he could barely feel the taste. When Viktor offered his hand and helped him to his feet, he almost stumbled. The man quickly grabbed him by his waist and held him. 

His heart was beating fast. Now, that all these unusual pleasantries were out of their way, was the man going to ..? The thought was making him ill to the stomach.

"Thank you for a very pleasant time, Yuuri," Viktor spoke and kissed the Japanese's hand again. "Could an unfortunate man such as I hope for a kiss?"

Yuuri's head snapped up fast. Was the man asking for permission? Viktor's expression was hopeful as he held Yuuri by the waist with one hand and by one hand with the other. Yuuri pressed his lips against the man's mouth, feeling the sudden need to brush them against the soft lips presenting themselves so nicely. 

Viktor tasted of vodka and his lips were intoxicating. Suddenly, he felt the need to taste more.

Yuuri dared sticking out his tongue and traced a line over that perfect mouth. Suddenly, a hand was at his nape, and Viktor began kissing him. Yuuri could feel his eyes rolling in his head with the sensation. There was a strong tongue inside his mouth, swirling against his own, feeling like ... sex. Yuuri had been kissed but not like this. Never before had he been the one kissed, always the attacker, since his few and far in between girlfriends liked it when he was cocksure about his actions. Viktor was a great kisser, devouring him with each lick and bite. Giving himself to the man no longer seemed such a bad idea. Even if it was going to hurt, Yuuri was pretty certain the man's kisses were enough to compensate for the pain.

Viktor broke the kiss slowly, resting his forehead against Yuuri's.

"You are very beautiful, Yuuri."

"So are you," Yuuri dared.

His cheeks were cupped by slender hands and his dark eyes were searched by the deep blue ones. 

"Are you scared?" Viktor asked sympathetically. "Please be honest."

Yuuri nodded, casting his eyes to the side.

"Look at me," Viktor whispered. "Is it true you are a virgin?"

Yuuri blushed furiously. Suddenly, he wished he was more experimented so he could impress this ice angel whose hands seemed to burn as they were cupping his face. He knew what sex was and had watched enough porn, but that was about his entire experience about the actual thing.

"Such an endearing reaction," Viktor whispered. "Not even with a girl?"

Yuuri shook his head.

"I cannot speak for the womenfolk, but Japanese men must be blind or fools to let you escape untouched by this age. I won't complain. I am glad that you are here and that no one ever had you."

Yuuri was made to come closer into Viktor's arms.

"You have nothing to be afraid. I will do everything in my power to take things slowly."

But that was the problem. He was afraid, very afraid, and as the man's hands moved lower, cupping his ass and making Yuuri glue to a hard slender body that promised that it won't be denied, he made a small terrified sound. All the nightmares, the frightening scenarios he had played inside his mind just came crushing down on him.

Viktor stopped right away and took a step back. Yuuri almost whimpered at the loss of those warm hands on him. Wasn't he a bundle of contradictions? 

He raised his eyes to meet the searching icy blues.

"Are you afraid I am going to rape you?" the Russian asked in a gentle tone. "That I am going to hurt you?"

Yuuri nodded, his heart in his throat. Viktor's eyes darkened and a frozen smile was soon plastered on his face. Yuuri thought that the man was angry, although controlling it very well.

"Then why are you here?" Viktor demanded to know, crossing his arms over his chest.

"That ... is ... because ... it's not like I have a choice!" Yuuri blurted out.

Viktor leaned against the top bed, his stance relaxing.

"Then you are free to go. You will not be bothered, I promise you."

Yuuri felt the ground being swept from under his feet. What insanity had driven him to say no to this man? Renewed frightening scenarios began forming in his head. His parents losing their onsen for good, his own body sold for parts ...

"Please, forgive me," he bowed. "I was ... a bit taken by surprise. Please, have me."

A warm gentle hand began caressing his bowed head.

"I will not have you against your will."

Yuuri began shaking. 

"Please, it is all misunderstanding!"

"I hardly think it is high on your list to come to a prison and entertain an inmate."

"I do want it!" Yuuri said stubbornly. "Please, I beg of you, call for me again."

"Open on 88!" the guard's voice interrupted them.

Yuuri's head jerked up and he looked at Viktor pleadingly. The clear ice like eyes were thoughtful. The guard entered and grabbed Yuuri by one arm.

"Let's move, cupcake," the guard joked. "Conjugal's over."

Yuuri let himself being dragged away, his eyes glued to Viktor's. The man said nothing, but he continued to look at him until Yuuri was out of the cell.


	2. It Gets Better After The First Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri makes Viktor an offer he can't refuse ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little mention, since I forgot to place it in the tags (updating now) - Yurio is of legal age, not a minor, like in the anime.

Yuuri didn't care about the catcalls and the whistles this time. His attention was all sucked in by that cell on the upper floor where the man that could end his life and ruin his family with a single word was currently residing.

Viktor was already alone in his cell this time around. Yuuri took great efforts not to stumble and make an entrance worthy of his pathetic useless self.

To his surprise, as soon as the door closed behind him, the man took him in his arms and kissed him deeply.

"I am so glad you're here again," Viktor whispered into his hair. "I think I upset you before."

"No, no, you didn't," Yuuri protested and sneaked his hands around Viktor's waist. "I'm ready now. Please accept my apologies."

Viktor caressed his hair slowly.

"Are you hungry, Yuuri?"

"No, please, I just want ..." Yuuri trailed off. "I want to sleep with you."

Viktor became rigid in his arms and broke their embrace.

"Come, let's enjoy our meal."

Yuuri caught his arm.

"Viktor, please," he begged. "Take me."

"I am not taking you by force."

"What are you talking about? I am the one begging you to do it."

"That's only because there are people forcing you to," Viktor spoke with clarity. "They are breathing down your neck, telling you what to do."

Yuuri remained stoned face looking at Viktor and not understanding a thing.

"I like your company," Viktor spoke gently. "I like spending time with you. And I like your smell and how your lips open when I kiss you. This is all you. You don't ... dislike it. Anything else, I won't approve. I won't defile you. And rest assured, they will not dare lay a finger on you. If you ever feel ... like you really want to give yourself to me, that will be a different matter. For now, I want you to do what feels comfortable, nothing else."

Relief washed over him. What was about this man that was making him feel so safe, so sure of himself? Yuuri reached for Viktor and dragged him in for a loud kiss. He smiled.

"Then let's eat," he said cheerfully.

"And I will tell you about the most beautiful ice rinks in Moscow," Viktor promised, winking at him.

This time, the meal was much relaxed, and Yuuri felt more at ease. It was hard to think this man was mafia. He was way too good natured. But he was just a stranger, and, for now, he seemed to enjoy making Yuuri feel at ease. He was nice company, and not once Yuuri caught himself staring. Viktor's eyes were so beautiful, magnetic even, but honest and clear. They were not the eyes of a perverted man, like Yuuri had imagined before coming here the first time. There were changing waters and waves in those eyes, and Yuuri wanted nothing but to get lost in them and count every shade.

A small cough from Viktor interrupted his thoughts. He blushed and he removed the hand holding his chin.

"I do not mind having you look at me like this, but I would really like to know why you are not skating anymore."

"Ahem, well...for starters, I am too old for it."

"Old?" Viktor frowned a little. "How old are you?"

"I'm 23," Yuuri said promptly.

"There are skaters in Russia who still compete at older ages, even 30," Viktor replied.

"Well, ..." Yuuri looked down, a bit embarrassed. "I wasn't much on the competitive skating scene. It just seemed pointless to drag on, forcing my parents to support me, while I just went home with nothing to show for their efforts and dedication all these years."

Viktor fell silent and began fiddling with his fork.

"I'd love to see you skate one day," Viktor said dreamily.

"I was nothing much," Yuuri shook his head.

"Somehow I doubt it," Viktor said with a small smile. "You seem to be selling yourself short."

"I am?" Yuuri asked surprised.

"Well, you're here with me," Viktor chuckled softly.

"I like being with you," Yuuri said breathily.

Viktor grinned.

"Come here," he beckoned Yuuri and the Japanese rose and then sat on Viktor's lap as the man patted his leg.

One nimble hand sneaked inside Yuuri's gown, making small circles on heated skin. Yuuri's breathe became faster.

"I thought you said you wouldn't force me," he whispered, while grabbing Viktor's shoulders.

"Do I look like I'm forcing you? And I said nothing about me trying to seduce you," Viktor smirked against Yuuri's lips, sticking out his tongue and tracing a wet trail.

"Is this you trying to seduce me?" Yuuri almost whined.

"Is it working?" Viktor nibbled his jaw line, ending up with a small playful bit on a shell shaped ear.

"I don't know. I guess you'll have to work harder," Yuuri joked.

"You tease," Viktor kissed his cheek and then put him down. "It's almost time. See you on Tuesday?"

"Definitely," Yuuri threw his hands around Viktor's neck and kissed him.

When the guard came to take him away, he could not stop smiling. Viktor Nikiforov was totally different from what he thought. And he could barely wait for their next meeting.

***

When he entered the cell the next time, Yuuri found himself face to face with the small blond from the first time. He bowed politely and remained standing, staring down and straightening his clothes.

"Have you any idea what you are putting Viktor through, pig?" the blond spat in disgust.

Yuuri recoiled at the hatred in the young man's voice.

"I don't understand what you mean."

"Of course you don't. You just prance around like a whore, while he courts you like you are some high prized catch."

Yuuri's eyes trained sharply on the blond.

"Viktor is a powerful man. He does everything he wants to do. If he has principles he chooses to respect, what does a brat like you have to do with anything?"

The green eyes flashed in anger, but the young man didn't get up from his bed.

"I heard all Japanese are uber polite. You're rude," he said maliciously.

"I have no interest in being overly polite with someone who insists on insulting me without knowing me."

The blond snorted.

"Just do what you are here for, you crappy whore. Or Viktor will have to face some serious shit from the other gang leaders. Don't you think it's clear what you do? The entire prison knows how the great Viktor Nikiforov is wrapped around a whore's little finger."

Yuuri could feel his fingers itching.

"Now listen, young man," he stood tall. "What happens between Viktor and I is none of your concerns or others' for that matter."

"Of course you don't care. You're just an ugly ass bitch who doesn't care for anything except getting paid. If you didn't notice, this is prison. When someone loses face, it's time for them to hit the gutter. Stop ruining Viktor's rep. Just put up or let someone else do it!"

"Like you?" Yuuri said sharply and in one second, the blond bolted from his place and now had the Japanese glued to the wall, pressing hard with one elbow against the visitor's neck. 

Yuuri steeled himself. He was about to push the boy away when he heard a strong voice booming.

"Yuri!"

His head snapped. He had never heard Viktor speaking his name like that. It was making his blood curdle.

"What?" the blond pushed away from him, to his surprise and only then noticed that the icy blues were bearing into the kid from behind the bars. The guard opened the door to let Viktor in, and at the silver haired man's short gesture, he grabbed the blond and took him away in a wave of protests.

Viktor swept one hand through his hair.

"I terribly apologize for my cousin's behavior. Yuri can be a pain in the ass when he wants."

"Yuri? Of course, that's a Russian name, too" realization dawned on Yuuri. "How strange to share the same name."

"Please don't mind him. He's just a kid," Viktor waved. "How have you been? 

Yuuri allowed Viktor to pull him into a hug. 

"Viktor," he asked shyly. "Is it true? That you are losing face because of me? Because if that's true..."

"Don't you worry about such things. Yuri likes to exaggerate. He's still too young and he doesn't understand many things."

"Viktor," Yuuri warned and pressed his index finger against the small crease between silverish eyebrows. "What's this?"

"What do you mean?" Viktor captured his finger and playfully caught it between his lips.

"That was a frown. Right there. You are worried."

"It's just business," Viktor shrugged, but he averted his eyes.

Yuuri decided to let it drop, but in his mind a decision was taking shape.

"I need something," Yuuri spoke.

"If I can help," Viktor obliged with a smile.

"Just sit on the bed."

Viktor looked at him strangely, but obeyed, his beautiful eyes trained on him. Yuuri took a deep breath and in one swift move, he was straddling Viktor, hiking up his gown, letting plenty of milk like skin show.

"What are you doing, Yuuri?" Viktor breathed out.

"Keep still," Yuuri commanded. "Is it a show they want?"

Viktor smiled and his hands sneaked under Yuuri's gown, leaving shivers in their wake. Funny, his skin was burning, while he had been cold before in his thin clothes.

"You are playing with fire, little one," Viktor's voice grew deeper.

"You're not that old and I'm not that short so your point is moot."

"Am I not allowed to call you endearing names?"

"Not really."

"See? This is how you undermine me."

"Oh, so it's your rep really going down?"

"No, you undermine me, in my resolve not to touch you without permission."

The burning hands sneaked up, until they rested on Yuuri's hips.

"No underwear, Yuuri? I suppose you know I'm only human."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Yuuri blushed as he tried to grind his ass against what now felt like a glorious erection. Trying to act like he knew what he was doing was incredibly hard. Which was exactly what he was, too, he noticed as he sneaked a small glance towards his own dick, poking at the silk robe he was wearing.

"It means," Viktor's head came to nestle in the crook of Yuuri's shoulder, "that I am using the last shred of decency I have not to flip you over and show you what you are doing to me. Are you sure you can assume responsibility?"

"I'll do anything to save your rep," Yuuri whispered into Viktor's hair.

"Don't Yuuri," Viktor said sharply and pulled back.

The Japanese frowned.

"Viktor Nikiforov, it's really rude to have me beg. Now, grab my hair and give me a hickey that I can proudly show when I walk out of here."

Viktor looked at him in shock.

"What have you done to my sweet innocent Yuuri, fiend?" Viktor asked with a smile.

"You'll have to search for him ... deep," Yuuri's eyes flashed brightly, but he could feel his cheeks catching fire. 

"You say the darndest things and you are still blushing. What kind of kinky angel are you? Are you sure you are not a high skilled courtesan, trained to have me to my knees?"

"And what should I do with you on your knees? As I see it, I need Viktor Nikiforov to be strong," Yuuri spoke freely, more and more pleased with his role of seducer that was fitting like a glove.

"Your wish is my command, my beautiful neko," Viktor bored his hypnotic eyes into Yuuri's and smiled mischievously.

"Neko?" Yuuri's eyebrows shot up.

"That's how you say cat in Japanese, right?"

"If I am a cat, that means you're a dog?"

"No, it means that I am a Siberian tiger and I am about to swallow you whole, little neko."

Yuuri burst into laughter, taking Viktor by surprise. The Russian followed in his good natured style.

"Is a tiger too much?" Viktor asked.

"No, actually, I think you are as beautiful and as graceful as one."

"And as ravenous," Viktor said with a smirk and he moved his hands to cup Yuuri's ass under the gown.

"I want you to take me," Yuuri gasped.

"Here, with everyone watching?" Viktor seemed taken aback.

Yuuri blushed. Was it wrong to admit that the idea was making him feverish all over? He had to be frightened, overcome with shame, but he had thought a lot about this. Yuri's nasty words were just giving him a push.

"The others ..." Yuuri trailed off. "They are already taken by their owners. That leaves me at a disadvantage, don't you think?"

"Yuuri," Viktor said slowly. "Try being honest please. My cock cannot take so many confusing signals."

"Do you want me?" Yuuri asked, cupping Viktor's face.

Ice could be dark, too. 

"You know I do. But I do not want it to happen like this."

"Just take me. Stop worrying. You know what's at stake. I may not know much, but I am no fool and I know your cousin is right."

Viktor cursed under his breath.

"Don't deny it, please," Yuuri said softly.

"I cannot. I will not hurt you," Viktor said stubbornly.

"Then how about a little ... play pretend?"

Viktor quirked an eyebrow.

"Yes, just push me on my back and move like you are pounding hard into me. Leave the rest to me. The great Viktor Nikiforov will have his rep intact and ... more."

"More?"

"Have you ever watched Japanese porn?" Yuuri said with a wink.

"I cannot say I have," Viktor said, a bit intrigued.

"Just leave it to me," Yuuri whispered and grinded against Viktor's erection with a small moan. "Now all you need to do is flip me over and pretend you're sticking it inside.”

Yuri could feel his skin catching fire everywhere Viktor touched. Suddenly it occurred to him that this was a dangerous game. And not only because arousing Viktor was bound to have consequences. But because it was a thrilling sensation to have the beautiful Russian comfortably installed between his legs, his clothed erection rubbing against Yuuri's naked one.

He lifted his arms and curled his fingers around the bed rails. Outside the cell, some inmates walked about, pushed by COs, others were in their cells, staring bleakly at nothing. 

His high pitched scream turned every head in his field of view towards Viktor's cell. The Russian jolted and almost hit his head against the top bunk.

"Yuuri, what the hell?" Viktor said through his teeth.

"Just play along," Yuuri whispered to him. "Show me what you're made of, Viktor Nikiforov."

"Damn, my erection died," Viktor mumbled, but drew back and pounded into Yuuri's opened legs, like he was taking him hard.

Yuuri moaned lewdly and began moving his head from one side to another, while Viktor began moving in a pace that made the seams of his pants rub a bit roughly against the inside of Yuuri's thighs.

"Oh, Viktor, please, stop, you're ripping me in half!" he sobbed.

Whistles and applauses started from all corners.

"Give it to him hard!"

"Fuck his brains out!"

"Yeah, scream more, you little whore!"

"Knock that bitch up!"

"Go, Viktor, go!"

There was so much ruckus that a few COs began shouting and banging their sticks against the bars to calm down the inmates. One guard was soon at their cell.

"Nikiforov, cum already or shut your bitch up," the man ordered curtly.

Yuuri watched the guard with teary eyes. Damn, those acting classes he had taken two years ago were really paying off. It took some hard thinking about a sad story he had heard in kindergarten to start crying, but it had been worth it. Viktor grunted and pretended he was finishing and collapsed on top of Yuuri. The Russian hold out one hand.

"I'm finished, boss," he told the CO.

"Good for you," the man said sarcastically. "Now wrap it up and hope you didn't break your darling. I suppose you still want to see him again."

"Just give us two minutes," Viktor waved at him.

As the Russian stood up, pretending to adjust his pants, there was a loud round of applauses from the other cells, even those that didn't have a direct line of view at them. Viktor mocked a salute and turned an icy glare towards Yuuri who was carefully adjusting his clothes.

"If you pull another stunt like this without warning me, I'm not calling you again," he said.

Yuuri adjusted his robe, wrapping it tightly against his slender body.

"They say it is only the first time that hurts. So next time, it will be better."

Viktor was pissed. Now Yuuri could tell. He sat up, faking difficulty. He stood face to face with Viktor.

"Now kiss me, Vi-chan. We're official," he demanded.

A sudden wave of shyness washed over him as Viktor looked at him. Those icy blues were now giving him the shivers.

"Vi-chan?"

"It's ... an endearing nickname for you. Japanese style."

"And how should I call you?" Viktor stalked close to him.

"Whatever you like," Yuuri blushed, looking sideways.

"You just screamed like a banshee under me. Why are you blushing?"

They were both startled by the loud bang of a rubber stick against the bars.

"Time to go, princess. That, if you can walk. If not, I can offer you a stick," the man joked.

Yuuri watched in terror how Viktor's eyes changed.

"That's my wife you are talking to, boss," Viktor spoke softly, with just a tiny bit of menace in his words.

The Russian came to lean against the bars and continued, his attention focused on the man outside, the one supposed to be in charge.

"How do you like ... being whole?"

To Yuuri's surprise, the CO recoiled.

"Some people can live just as normally with just one eye," Viktor spoke casually, like he was talking weather.

"I meant no disrespect, mister Nikiforov," the man's tone changed. "I'll make sure your friend will not experience any discomfort while heading back."

"Good," Viktor said curtly. Then he added, his voice significantly gentler. "How does your wife like that mink coat?"

"Just fine, mister Nikiforov," the CO relaxed, too.

"Good. I'm glad to hear it."

When Viktor turned towards him, there was no trace of that strange dangerous man Yuuri had just seen. His eyes were filled with good humor.

"See you soon, love?"

"Of course," Yuuri said brightly and came to place a small peck on Viktor's lips.

But he was trembling. Viktor hugged him and kept him close. Words were whispered into his hair.

"You'll never be hurt while I watch over you," the Russian promised.

"Then watch over me always," Yuuri spoke without giving it much thought.

"Are you asking me to marry you, little one?"

"No," Yuuri scowled and Viktor laughed.

"I cannot wait for your next visit. Please, come prepared," he whispered seductively.


	3. Like You Own Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri comes ... prepared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, guys, thanks for all the love ... I hope you will continue to enjoy!

Yuuri could not believe he was counting the days until his next visit to see Viktor. The man was supposed to scare him, and he was scary, but all Yuuri could think of was how perfectly their bodies fit together even if just in jest.

He loved Viktor's hands. He had long fingers, nimble. He had the hands of a pianist, not the hands of a mafia boss. Not that he knew how such hands must have looked like. He just guessed they were not supposed to give him goose bumps everywhere in their wake.

 

On Thursday, a package came. He stared at the outfit for a long time. He knew what it was. A skater's outfit. Viktor had really crazy ideas about their next meet up. 

His hands traveled longingly over the smooth dark material. The top was mostly see-through, the delicate lace broken from place to place by light blue crystal like beads. They were reminding Yuuri of Viktor's eyes.

All dressed up he stared into the mirror and took a starting stance. Memories of a different life came unbound, and Yuuri just let himself fall on his knees, fighting hard to stop the trembling in his hands. Who was he kidding? He was nothing but a whore for rent.

He stared stubbornly at his own reflection. Yes, he was a whore, but he had just managed to save Viktor Nikiforov's prison rep and that without even having to let the man penetrate him.

A new chill made him aware of the state of undress he was in.

"Come prepared," the words came to his mind.

He knew what that meant. And he was not such a hypocrite to not admit that he wanted it, too. He wanted to become Viktor's, to let himself melt into those slender, strong arms. Even with the whole prison watching.

***

On Saturday morning, as he sat in the back of the car, he could not refrain a wince of discomfort. Maybe he overdid it? The moisture and the sensation were a bit too much. He just hoped he was not going to make some embarrassing sounds while moving about. At least, the skater outfit made him feel a bit more dressed than the white gown, although his nipples clearly showed.

Viktor was really happy to see him. Yuuri could only think of one thing. He hoped it was not going to hurt much. It would be really funny this time to cry and beg for real.

"Wow, just let me look at you," Viktor's eyes beamed. "Make a small pirouette, love."

Yuuri gracefully sat on his toes and executed a perfect pirouette. Viktor clapped his hands in pure delight.

"I must say I was surprised with your gift," Yuuri spoke and let Viktor kiss him on the lips. "I mean ... I know I am supposed to give it back ..." he choked on his own words.

"It's yours," Viktor said simply. "I said I wanted to see you skate one day, but, for now, this has to do. Do you think you can show me some moves? I hope you have been practicing."

Practicing? Yuuri shook his head.

"I know most of them by heart. I can show you a few things, even without skates. To some degree, skating is like dancing."

Viktor sat on the bottom bed, his chin resting on top of his linked fingers with an expression of pure delight in his eyes.

Yuuri did not have to close his eyes to hear music. He knew exactly what he wanted to show Viktor. He must have looked ridiculous to anyone watching, but he didn't care. He undulated his hips lasciviously, throwing his head back, exposing himself in ways he had only allowed himself when alone on the ice. He had never showed this to anyone.

"Amazing," Viktor clapped. "You have great stamina and you are really flexible. And graceful and strong just like a ballerina."

"Thank you," Yuuri said, a bit embarrassed.

"What would you like to do today?" Viktor asked. "I got some cards. Should we play a little poker? If you want anything else, just say. I'll make it happen."

"No, poker is fine," Yuuri sat on the bed next to Viktor, barely refraining a sigh. Was the man really making him wait until the last moment? "What are we using instead of money?"

Viktor smiled and said. "We can use kisses and ... secrets."

"Wow," Yuuri said excitedly. There were so much more things he wanted to learn about Viktor. But he sucked at cards.

Viktor quickly explained the rules. Yuuri just botched it by showing his hand early.

"So, what would you like?" he asked sheepishly. "A kiss or a secret?"

"Hm, a secret."

“....”

"Why are you sitting like you are about to bolt?"

Yuuri blushed furiously. "Because I am ... well prepared and you're just postponing it," he said in frustration.

"What?" Viktor asked, perplexed. "What are you talking about?"

"Didn't you tell me to come prepared?" Yuuri asked, miffed.

"And you did. You came dressed up in this beautiful outfit and you made my day. Wait, what did you think ...?"

"Nothing," Yuuri cut him short, simply mortified. And to think that he had gone to so much length to ...

"Yuuri," Viktor's stern voice interrupted his thoughts. "You owe me a secret. Tell me."

Yuuri looked frantically outside the cell. He hoped that CO was going to come around soon. He needed out.

"Don't try to run," Viktor's voice was growing thick. "Frank won't come. I just managed to make our visits longer."

"Oh," Yuuri fidgeted in his place. "What about your cousin?"

"He's busy. Stop trying to change the subject."

Yuuri stood up abruptly and huddled himself against the wall.

"I ..." he started. "I came prepared ... for sex."

The last word was barely audible. In one move, Viktor was in front of him, bracing the wall above Yuuri's head with his hands.

"What do you mean prepared for sex?" Viktor watched him closely.

Yuuri wanted to punch him so badly.

"I have a ton of lube up my ass and I spent the entire Friday trying to stretch myself with fingers only," he blurted out.

He expected Viktor to burst into laughter at silly ol' him. But instead a smooth hand came to cup his cheek.

"Wow... you really thought about it, then?"

"Yes, you said ..." Yuuri stammered.

"Do you want it, Yuuri? Do you want me?"

Yuuri's chest was suddenly small and painful.

"I ... don't know, Viktor," he barely managed.

Viktor's hands brought him close and soon they were kissing so gently that it hurt inside. 

"Damn, Yuuri," he said softly as they stopped for air. "You're driving me crazy, you know? Now what should I do?"

"Maybe ... just do it," Yuuri said shyly.

"You seem fairly terrorized by the idea."

"I am. But I want ... I want to know how it feels. And I want you to be the one ... doing it to me."

"You don't mind others watching us?"

Yuuri blushed again.

"There is no other way, is it?"

Viktor chuckled.

"Close your eyes."

Yuuri obeyed and he stood there, his eyes tightly closed, expecting Viktor to pounce him.

"Open them," he heard Viktor saying.

When he looked around, he stared confused. The hanged sheet obscured the rest of the prison from his eyes. It was almost like they were alone.

He grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head. Viktor stared at him, but didn't move. Yuuri liked it. He was safe here, with Viktor. Under his intense gaze, nothing bad could happen. It was just up to him to show Viktor that he wanted it. Not only the sex. He wanted Viktor.

He stood there naked, his glamorous skater outfit pooled at his feet. His hands were linked above his groin, trying to mask it.

"Show me, Yuuri," Viktor said seductively.

"You probably wanted a woman," Yuuri said the first thing that crossed his mind.

"It is easier to have sex with a woman than with a man when you are in a prison like this one," Viktor said all knowingly.

Yuuri wasn't sure if he wanted to know what that meant.

He willed his hands aside.

"Now show me how prepared you are."

Yuuri turned, exposing his backside. Trembling fingers reached for the entrance, and he was relieved to see that some of the lube was still there. He began fingering himself, looking at Viktor over his shoulder.

The Russian was working on his belt, his eyes glued to Yuuri's nakedness. That intense gaze was making him feel even more naked, if that was possible.

"Come lay on the bed. Knees to the chest," Viktor instructed, his voice strained.

The brunet obeyed and assumed the position. Viktor was infinitely gently as he aligned his erection with Yuuri's hole.

"Please," Yuuri begged. 

It wasn't like Yuuri didn't want to take things extremely slowly. But he knew Viktor was already stretched to his limit. So he ground his teeth and constantly urged the Russian to go faster, harder, deeper, until they were connected and he could feel Viktor's pubes tickling the skin inside his thighs.

"Thank you, Yuuri," the beautiful man spoke softly and he withdrew just a little to push back again.

Yuuri squeezed his eyes shut. Even with all the lube, Viktor was just too big. But, at the second thrust, the pain was no longer the same. 

"Just relax a bit, love," Viktor begged and continued his slow thrusts that were gaining momentum one after another.

 

And, suddenly, there was a brush over something inside of him that made him moan.

"I definitely like your genuine moaning much better than your acting," Viktor said and he sped up. "Just do it here, in my ear. I don't want anyone else to hear you."

Yuuri grabbed Viktor's neck, dragging him close. 

"Fuck me, Viktor. Fuck me like you own me."

It was like that was the magic formula for opening the gates to something wonderful and scary that suspended Yuuri at the realm between heaven and hell for what seemed like hours and seconds at the same time. His ass was burning, but that special place inside him was hammered with so much enthusiasm that he felt he was losing himself. The man was fast and he had great stamina. He was whispering incoherent words in Russian and Yuuri felt powerful. He was the one to make this beautiful powerful man behave like this.

Yuuri arched his back to meet each of Viktor's thrusts with his own. And when he came, without even touching himself, and felt Viktor coming inside him fast and hard, he felt victorious. 

They collapsed on the bed, breathing hard.

"Wow, Yuuri, such a nice surprise," Viktor spoke softly.

"I'm glad you liked it," Yuuri said shyly.

"You know what you are doing to me, right?" Viktor chuckled, the sound sending a nice buzz straight to Yuuri's chest. "Prepare to assume responsibility."

"I have no idea what you are talking about," Yuuri pouted in jest.

Viktor raised one hand and used his index finger to draw the line of one curved upper lip.

"You don't, huh? Here I am, in a vulnerable position ... a man thrown in prison, in a cold grey world ..." he exaggerated every word, eyeing Yuuri carefully.

"Shut up, Vi-chan," the brunet snorted. "You're on top of the food chain, in and out. It cannot be that bad."

"That's true," the Russian admitted. "But you make things much better. So, how was it? Or, better yet, how was I?"

Yuuri winced as he tried to adjust his position.

"I'd say nature had a funny sense of humor with you."

"Really? And why is that?" Viktor demanded to know.

"Besides making you tall, beautiful and strong, it also gave you a big ..." Yuuri suddenly chocked on his own words. 

It was not like him to be so shameless. Viktor was bad influence, he knew it. But he could not bring himself to think like this.

"A big what?" Viktor feigned innocence.

"You know," Yuuri blushed. "I suppose you give yourself pats on the back each time you look at yourself in the mirror."

"Oh, that," Viktor smiled. "It is true that my belly button is kind of large."

Yuuri laughed. Was he completely insane? He was in a prison, completely naked, surrounded by hardened criminals, and next to one of those bad guys who had just hammered him into the mattress.

"Come on Yuuri, say it," Viktor demanded.

"Say what?" Yuuri moved his head to stare at the wall stubbornly.

"Say how much you love my ... I won't say it for you."

"I didn't not say I love it. But I do like it," Yuuri teased.

"Say it to my ear," Viktor stalked him closely.

Yuuri brushed his lips against Viktor's ear. 

"I like your cock, Viktor," he whispered. "I want it in me badly. Even if I won't be able to walk afterwards."

It looked like all that was needed was for him to get started. Icy blues bore into his eyes, as Viktor half rose to look at him.

"Continue that thought, and they'll have to drag me away from you. I'll be inside you so hard that they'll have to douse me in arctic water to get me off you."

Yuuri giggled. A hard hand grabbed his jaw fast, making him stop. Viktor's eyes were hooded with desire.

"Why did you have to walk into my cell, Yuuri?" the man spoke with gentleness that was amiss from his grip.

"I told you," Yuuri gulped nervously. "I didn't have a choice."

The hand dropped. Viktor rose and began dressing up. Yuuri could not stop the feeling that he had just fucked up everything.

"Viktor," he called. 

The man didn't look at him.

"There is no point in hiding from the truth," he added with determination. "But, if it makes any difference, I'm glad it's you and no one else. Because you're a good man. You're kind and you're treating me right. It's so much more than I could have asked for."

Viktor's laugh was harsh and soulless. It was making Yuuri feel cold.

"Would you have felt the same about me, if we had met on the outside?" Viktor asked.

"What do you mean?" Yuuri stood up and began dressing up, too.

"Let's say ... if we were both in a bar, and I would have walked up to you, asking you to join me for a drink. What would you have done? Knowing what I am."

Yuuri had no reason to lie.

"Knowing you were mafia? I would have turned you down, of course, and ran from the bar as far as I could."

Viktor's shoulders slumped in defeat.

"But I would have wondered for the rest of my days how it could have been to be embraced and held and kissed by that handsome foreigner, with that sexy accent, that smelled so good and spoke so confidently."

Viktor turned to stare at Yuuri in disbelief.

"Yes. I would have wondered how it could have been to do something wild once in a lifetime. I would have wondered how that man might feel inside me, making love to me," Yuuri added, his eyes not leaving Viktor.

The darkness disappeared from the beautiful blue eyes, melting with each one of Yuuri's words.

"If you're playing me, Yuuri," he spoke softly, "then please play me until the very last time together."

Yuuri shook his head and came to stand face to face with Viktor.

"I don't understand how a man like you could see himself so badly. But maybe this is what makes you such a good person. I just wished you would believe me."

"Why?" Viktor asked simply.

The answer was not as simple, but Yuuri made the effort anyway.

"Because nobody ever looked at me like you do, except the people I know very well, without a doubt, that they love me. And you're a stranger, but you don't feel like one. Just take good care of me, Viktor Nikiforov."

Viktor nodded solemnly.

Their moment was cut short by a loud rap against the bars. The door opened and the sheet was yanked down by an impatient hand.

They both turned to stare at the shorter blond who was just standing there, seething, with a guard by his side.

Viktor frowned and he was about to say something. The guard intervened.

"You will want to hear this."

"Alright," Viktor straightened up. "Please see Yuuri out, Frank."

"Call him something else," the blond growled.

Only then, Yuuri noticed the blond's bruised mouth. What could have happened? When he stared at Viktor, he noticed the coldness in the man's features shaking a bit.

"Who?" Viktor demanded to know. "Yura, who?"

The guard grabbed his arm and gestured for him to get out. Yuuri wanted to say goodbye to Viktor, but it was clearly not the time. 

"Will he be alright?" he asked the guard, while he was being taken out.

"None of your business, sugar," the guard said clipped.

Yuuri wondered if Viktor was going to see him next Tuesday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title inspired by Spice's Conjugal Visit. I just seemed fitting ;)


	4. Let’s Do It Prison Style

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor Nikiforov, please meet Yuuri Katsuki. The real one.

Not being able to stay in contact with Viktor between their visits was a terrible experience. It was making Yuuri feel cold, unwanted. He was in a country, in a city where he knew no one. He had no one to talk to. And he felt completely alienated.

He spent his days training, keeping his body in shape, for Viktor. It was strange how brightly the simple thought of being again with the man shone in his mind. His entire existence was absorbed by that light that burned blue in icy eyes. 

It felt almost like an addiction. When training for an important competition, Yuuri had experienced this type of hyper-focus. It made everything clear, crisp like morning air in the mountains. Everything he wanted, everything he needed, was right there, for him to grasp.

Only that just like every gold medal that had ever been handed to another, while he had to settle for a lesser achievement, that often did not include a place on the podium, Viktor Nikiforov was not meant to be his. The illusion, however, was overpowering. Yuuri wanted Viktor, even more so now, after being together intimately.

On Monday night, his phone called. His phone only rang when he was supposed to be summoned for the visits to the prison. Only that this phone call was early.

Hesitantly, he swiped.

"Yes," he said, his throat dry.

"Hello, Yuuri," the now familiar voice called for him sweetly.

"Viktor," he whispered, letting himself lay on the floor. "How? How did you get this number?"

Now that was a stupid question, Yuuri thought as soon as words flew from his mouth.

"I've been a good boy," Viktor joked. "I had to choose my treat and I did."

"I have no idea what you are talking about," Yuuri spoke, simply too happy to hear the Russian.

"I cannot wait to see you tomorrow, Yuuri."

"I want to see you, too," Yuuri said with a small sigh.

"Have you been thinking about me?" Viktor's voice dropped to a seductive whisper.

"Not one bit," Yuuri teased. And then, almost too afraid to alienate the man, he added. "Except all my waking moments."

"So I gather you did not dream of me?" Viktor demanded with a playful tinge in his voice.

"So insatiable," Yuuri laughed.

He could hear muffled noises through the phone.

"I have to go, love," Viktor said with a sigh.

"Wait. Is your cousin alright?" Yuuri said quickly, wanting nothing but to hear Viktor talking some more.

"Yuri? He'll live. Maybe his ego is a little bruised, but otherwise, all is fine."

"I'm glad," Yuuri said softly.

"See you tomorrow, love. Dream of me, will you?"

"Yes," Yuuri barely managed, as the line went dead.

That if he was going to be able to sleep. He could feel his heart bursting out of his chest.

***

No special requests for a dress code had been made this time so, after some deliberation, Yuuri grabbed a pair of faded jeans, a white t-shirt and a dark navy hoodie. A pair of sneakers was completing his outfit. He looked at himself in the mirror and put on his glasses. It was time for Viktor to meet the real Yuuri Katsuki. He was just hoping the Russian was not going to be disappointed. 

Only thinking about the man was making him walk funny. He adjusted himself. Going commando was part of his plan, to show Viktor, the powerful mafia boss, that even behind such an unassuming outfit, Yuuri was still hot for him. And it was the only naughty card he had thought about playing, in case his plan of introducing his genuine self to Viktor was going to fall through.

***

There was a small sign of surprise on Viktor's face when he saw him walking into the cell on Tuesday.

Yuuri made a bow.

"My name is Katsuki Yuuri. Please to meet you," he spoke.

His eyes were smiling as he looked at Viktor through his glasses. He really hoped he didn't manage to ruin everything but he needed to show confidence about it.

Viktor looked him up and down with unreadable eyes.

"Interesting choice of clothes," he eventually said. "And I had no idea you wore glasses."

"I can finally see you clearly now," Yuuri replied, unnerved with how the silver-haired man preferred to sit at a distance, without making a move to kiss him or embrace him. He had been a fool!

There was a small guttural noise coming from Viktor. Yuuri stared at him curiously.

"What?" he asked. 

"Are those glasses real, then?"

"Yes," Yuuri answered. 

Viktor moved, passing by him and with sure gestures hung the sheet. He turned to meet Yuuri's dumbfounded expression with a heated gaze.

"On your knees," Viktor ordered and Yuuri simply obeyed.

The man towered above him and a strong hand was wrapped around his nape.

"I know you are still inexperienced, Yuuri," Viktor spoke thickly, "but now please open your mouth and let me in, because it's been a longtime fantasy of mine to give it to a cutie with glasses like you."

Yuuri fumbled with Viktor's zipper, his cheeks ablaze. He hadn't expected to walk straight into one of Viktor's kinks when he had put his glasses on, but now he was glad he had.

And he had been fantasizing about this too. He wanted to get acquainted with Viktor's long strong cock, to feel it in his hand and to taste it. Just last night, that had been his dream. And now he was there, turning it into reality.

The Russian was hard as a rock as Yuuri took his cock out. He gave a tentative lick tot the head. He had watched enough porn to know about blowjobs but he was tense and afraid he was going to do something wrong.

"Please take me in your mouth, Yuuri," Viktor pleaded with him and Yuuri opened wide trying to fit as much of that cock as he could inside his mouth.

What happened next felt completely natural. He began sliding his mouth and tongue over the man's length. It felt so right and it was making him feel hot, hot, hot. He grabbed that amazing erection with both hands and began sucking greedily. This was his chance to taste the man, to make him quiver and let himself go. 

"Look at me," Viktor said breathily and Yuuri did.

When their eyes connected, Yuuri felt whole. It was like all his life he had been lost and now he was found. And Viktor applied more pressure to his nape, keeping him steady, almost forcing himself inside Yuuri's mouth but not quite so, and he moaned around the hard cock in his mouth, cumming inside his jeans, without touching himself, only from the friction of his naked cock against the zipper. It was painful, but it felt right nonetheless. His eyes rolled in his head and to his dismay, Viktor pulled out. 

He didn't manage to protest. White ropes of cum hit his glasses, his cheeks, and his lips and he opened his mouth to catch some of it.

He let himself melt on the floor. Viktor grabbed him like he was some kind of doll and brought their lips together.

"No, Viktor," he pulled himself free. "It's dirty."

"Do you know how you can tell if sex is good?" Viktor asked with a grin.

Yuuri could see some of the semen now on Viktor's beautiful lips. Without giving it any thought, he leaned in and lapped those tiny drops greedily.

"How?" he asked dreamily.

"If it's dirty, you'll know it's good," Viktor said with a small laugh and guided Yuuri towards the mirror.

He could not believe that was him. His hair was a mess, his glasses were streaked with white and his lips were swollen. Some of Viktor's cum had landed on his shirt and hoodie. He looked like a total prostitute. But it felt damn fine.

Viktor's hand traveled to his front and he yelped in surprise.

"You came in your pants?" Viktor wondered with a hint of amusement in his voice. "Wow, baby, just wow."

"I don't think it ever happened to me before," Yuuri said, embarrassed.

Viktor slowly took out his glasses.

"I think these will need a bit of TLC until you can wear them again."

Yuuri laughed.

"I suppose so."

Viktor took a tissue and began wiping Yuuri's face with infinite care.

"I'm sorry about the stains," Viktor said, pointing at Yuuri's clothes. "I should give you something else to wear when you leave."

"Why?" Yuuri asked, fighting with a bit of semen stuck to his hair.

"Because everyone will see I came all over you," Viktor explained.

"Let them see," Yuuri said rebelliously. "I want everyone to know I am the one who makes Viktor Nikiforov cum so hard."

"Funny," Viktor nuzzled his nose with his. "But no. You will walk out of here as presentable as possible. Plus, what better excuse to have you lend me your t-shirt? I will keep it in my arms while I go to sleep at night."

"Viktor baka," Yuuri said with tenderness. "I can bring you as many t-shirts as you like."

"Only if you promise me you bring me all the sweaty ones."

"Ew," Yuuri faked being grossed out.

"I love your smell, haven't I told you?" Viktor embraced him while standing behind him.

"Yes, when I'm clean," Yuuri said stubbornly.

"Shut up, you," Viktor chided affectionately. "What does baka mean?"

"Uh, ahem," Yuuri hesitated and Viktor's hands descended on his flanks, tickling him. "Oh, please stop," he begged, thrashing against Viktor, laughing hysterically. "It means, oh, great one!"

"Like hell it does," Viktor wrestled Yuuri until they ended up on the floor, with the Russian on top. "Tell me and I promise I will go easy on you today."

"It means silly, you silly," Yuuri gave up.

"Oh, really? I'm silly now?" Viktor pretended to be miffed. "Maybe I am since you somehow read me like an open book and you somehow know that I like glasses on a guy."

"That was just a coincidence!" Yuuri exclaimed.

"And the getup? What's with it?" Viktor demanded to know.

"I just wanted to dress like we were on a casual date," Yuuri confessed.

"Oh," Viktor leaned over Yuuri, trapping him between his strong body and the floor. "You always go commando to casual dates, you naughty one?" he whispered into Yuuri's ear, sticking out his tongue and licking it.

"No, just on dates with you," Yuuri breathed out, feeling arousal growing inside him.

"Oh, Yuuri, you little firecracker," Viktor ground against him. "I want your tight ass so badly."

"Then come and get it," Yuuri said defiantly and his pants were soon pushed down, as Viktor fumbled with them, somehow managing to take out his sneakers too in the process.

He was breathing heavily, as the man above him began raining kisses and small bites on his face and neck. With each of Viktor's thrusts, he was arching himself off the floor, meeting him mid-way.

"Did you bring lube?" Viktor asked impatiently, as he pawed Yuuri's erection, giving it a few nice rubs.

Yuuri froze. Oh, fuck!

"N-no, sorry, I didn't think about ..."

His face was now ablaze. How could he be so stupid? Wasn't he expecting to be fucked by Viktor?

Viktor seemed to ponder for a bit.

"Are you up for doing it prison style then?" The Russian asked playfully.

"How is that?" Yuuri bit his lips. For some reason, the idea seemed exciting.

"Spit makes the finest lube when you have nothing else," Viktor said.

"Alright," Yuuri rose up to the challenge and pushed two fingers into his mouth, wetting them.

Viktor's eyes were hooded with desire as he watched. But when Yuuri tried to reach between his legs, Viktor caught his hand.

"I have a different idea."

Yuuri didn't have enough time to protest as his legs were pushed up and he almost yelped in surprise as Viktor went down on him. Soon, a pointy relentless tongue was in his ass, stretching and wetting him in the most delicious way possible.

He moaned shamelessly, opening his legs more, pushing into Viktor's mouth, wanting more of the incredible sensation. Viktor was licking steadily, up and down, and then running his tongue in crazy circles, pushing inside as much as he could and Yuuri bit on his own hand, trying hard to stifle his horrendous vocalizations.

Viktor straightened up eventually and he spat in his own palm to make his cock wet too. Yuuri could almost feel himself break under that intense gaze of blue. He loved the way Viktor fisted his own cock, the way the luscious head was made to appear and disappear with each long stroke. One day, he had to ask Viktor to do that in front of him until he came. The vision of that beautiful man taking care of himself was making him all aching with want. Grabbing his buttocks and parting them hard he urged Viktor.

"Fuck me now, please, Viktor!"

He could swear the Russian's smile was that of a predator finally presented with a long-awaited meal. When Viktor pushed inside, Yuuri almost choked. The burn was so intense it was bringing tears to his eyes. But he loved being stretched, being filled so completely. His ass was aching for that cock. And he was becoming a total slut and he was totally loving it.

Viktor's heavy pounding was determined, punishing and Yuuri took the man's desperate want deep inside him. The Russian found his rhythm fast and he was slamming inside his lover with a small grunt at each thrust. And with each thrust, Yuuri could feel his eyes rolling in his head. It was like somewhere, inside his ass, it was the root to his own dick, and Viktor was basically fucking him into his own sex.

He came so messily that he was sure cleaning the room was going to be a hassle. Viktor was making almost inhuman sounds as Yuuri's ass clamped down on the man's cock.

"Fuck, Yuuri, you're fucking amazing," Viktor whispered as he collapsed on the smaller body after he pumped a few days worth of spunk into his lover.

Yuuri's trembling hands came to rest on the silver head, caressing damp strands.

"I had no idea sex could be so much fun," Yuuri spoke after they finally regained their breath.

Viktor chuckled.

"Ah, well," he drawled. "It's only because it's with me."

Yuuri laughed.

"So handsome and so modest? How could it be? It must be a dream," he joked.

Viktor helped Yuuri to his feet and placed kisses on both the brunet's hands.

"If it's a dream, I don't want to wake up," he said tenderly while looking Yuuri in the eyes.

Bottomless and feeling Viktor's sticky jizz coming out of his ass freely, he should have felt ashamed. Instead, his heart was so full it burst with happiness.

"Me either," he said shyly. "I think I love you, Viktor."

As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew he made a terrible mistake. Viktor's grip on his hands became rigid and the man's eyes were burning into him.

"You must be crazy," the man said clipped. "Or stupid."

Yuuri could feel redness spreading from his cheeks to the tip of his ears. Somehow, though, the insult failed to put him in place.

"Believe what you like, mister Mafia Boss," he drew his fingers angrily from Viktor's hands. 

He grabbed his jeans and pulled them up, without looking at Viktor. A sneaker seemed to be nowhere to be found. With a curse, he knelt and started searching for it under the bed. A slap across his clothed ass almost made him hit his head against the bed frame.

"Ouch," he yelped and looked over his shoulder.

Viktor's eyes were still dark like a stormy sky as they searched his features.

"What are you playing, Yuuri?" the man said dangerously.

Yuuri sighed and resumed his searching.

"Nothing at all. And don't worry, it's not like I'm asking you to reciprocate. I am used to speaking my mind when something is as serious as this. I won't take it back."

Finally, the second sneaker was in his hands. He rose with his prize in one hand when he was roughly turned. The sneaker was snatched from his hand and thrown somewhere around the room. 

"Hey, I just …" he protested.

Viktor's mouth clashed violently with his, almost making his teeth rattle. He opened his mouth, to avoid having his lips crashed against his teeth, but Viktor had other plans. The Russian bit down on his lips viciously, drawing blood. Yuuri pushed against the man with all his force, making him stumble a little.

"What is wrong with you?" he yelled at the other.

He was ready to be slapped or worse, but instead, Viktor suddenly began laughing.

"Yuuri," Viktor spoke, almost hiccupping from so much laughing, "you'll be the death of me."

Now that was just preposterous.

"I certainly won't," he replied. "What? Aren't you used to being loved? I hardly believe you haven't been told this before!"

Viktor grabbed him by the nape playfully, flatting him against his hard chest.

"I've been told many times. Most of those times, it wasn't true. And most of those times, I didn't care. So I need to be clear with you, Yuuri Katsuki. This time, I care. And if it goes through that pretty head of yours to cross me, just know this. That you can hide at the end of the world, I will still find you."

"Oh, so this is the part where I get all scared and begin saying that I didn't mean it?" Yuuri scoffed, although it was pretty hard to look affronted, as one of his cheeks was kept flat against solid mass.

"No, this is the part where you repeat what you just said and you also say 'Yes, Viktor, I understand that you are a crazy motherfucker and I will never let any other man come close within a mile of my ass'," Viktor said with glee.

"A mile? You know that's not possible!" Yuri protested. "I have to take public transportation from time to time and go shopping for groceries and .."

"Shut up, Yuuri," Viktor ordered playfully. "Come on, just say it again."

Yuuri straightened his head and looked at Viktor, seriously miffed. "If it's said like this, it loses its value."

"Damn, when did you become such a ...wife?" Viktor asked, but his eyes were smiling.

"Since Viktor Nikiforov said plainly I am his wife," Yuuri shot back.

"There is no winning with you," Viktor shook his head. "Come on, let's wipe clean your glasses and have a new shirt on you. Don't think I forgot. Also, Yuuri, any joke aside," he whispered into Yuuri's ear, "you're completely mine now and you won't get away from me until I'm dead."

Was it wrong to feel so elated being spoken to like this by such a dangerous man? Yuuri could not care less.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed it! I love reading your comments and I love that you like the story! Thank you so much!


	5. Colliding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get complicated.

Ch. 5 – Colliding   
He was humming a happy tune while putting groceries away. Waltzing into the kitchen with a bag of apples in his hands, his head and his heart filled with nothing but Viktor, at first he didn't registered what was happening. 

"Yuuri Katsuki." 

The apples spread on the floor and Yuuri barely managed to refrain from screaming. In his kitchen, there was an uninvited guest, a man in his 60s, dressed in a long trench coat of undefined color, with a hat tucked on a head that looked too big for it.

"Who are you?" he breathed out, his hands searching for something to hold on to. "How did you get here?"

"I have a message for Viktor Nikiforov," the man ignored his questions. "It is a matter of life and death."

"Whose?" Yuuri's lips moved with difficulty.

"A lot of people's. Viktor's."

Yuuri could feel the ground slowly moving underneath his feet.

"The less you know, the better. The message is coded, so you will need to be able to memorize it to the letter. Do you understand?"

There was no reasonable explanation, but somehow Yuuri knew the old man was speaking the truth. 

"Let me grab a pen and paper," he whispered and tried to turn.

"No. You will have to memorize it. We don't have a lot of time. Now pay attention."

"Wait, why didn't you call and ask me ..."

"Your phone is tapped. This room isn't. An overlook from their part. Now, Yuuri Katsuki. Please, pay attention."

Yuuri could hear his own heart pounding in his ears. But he nodded, gesturing for the man to go ahead.

The succession of letters and numbers made little to no sense, but Yuuri focused, ignoring his beating heart.

"Repeat after me," the man said calmly.

Yuuri struggled at first, but on his third try he got it right. There was a sort of cadence he could get.

"Alright. Deliver the message. Make sure no one but Viktor can hear it. It is very important."

"Wait, what if I don't get it right? What if I forget it? What if I make some mistake?"

"Then someone might die."

He didn't have the strength to ask again if Viktor's life was at stake. Breathlessly, he repeated the message one more time. The old man nodded curtly.

"They will be here. They are suspicious lately. Just act normally," the man said curtly while heading for the door.

The sound of screeching tires outside startled Yuuri.

"Ah, it seems like they already are here," the old man said evenly. "Deliver the message."

Yuuri blinked at the closed door, after the man left, and then quickly hurried to gather all the apples from the floor. Act normally, act normally, he kept repeating to himself.

The door to his entrance was pushed open, almost making him drop the apples again. Flushed and bothered, he rose to meet the intruders.

A man with cold eyes, followed by two goons, were crowding his small kitchen. This one was younger than his previous visitor, probably somewhere in his 40s, but there was something rat-like about him that was making Yuuri’s skin crawl. 

"Yes?" he asked, not daring to speak anything more.

"So you're the pretty whore," the man spoke, smiling cruelly. "Good choice. Is Viktor enjoying you, my little present?"

"I ... think so," Yuuri said with difficulty.

"Give me your phone," the man demanded and Yuuri did not even dare protesting. 

He handed the man his phone, and the guy flipped through the list of calls.

"Any visitors?" the man asked, staring at Yuuri.

The brunet pushed his glasses against the bridge of his nose.

"What do you mean? I do not know anyone here."

"Answer the question," the man towered over Yuuri, making him back away slowly.

"No," he answered quickly, feeling like the man's mere presence was knocking the air out of his lungs.

The man hummed to himself as he grabbed Yuuri's glasses and took them away. The Japanese blinked and tried to focus on the man's face.

"You're blind as a bat without these?" the man inquired.

"Not exactly, but I cannot see well."

"Too bad, you're easy to look at without them."

The man suddenly grabbed Yuuri by his waist, making him yelp in surprise. He could feel his heavy breathe on his face. The man smelled of booze, and not necessarily the top shelf kind. His bile was slowly rising in his throat.

"How often does Viktor Nikiforov use you, pretty boy?"

"As he sees fit," he managed to spoke, trying to ignore the rough hand now handling his behind.

"That probably means that most of the time, you are left with your openings unfulfilled," the man laughed at his own bad pun. "Let me correct that."

Yuuri had no idea the shy guy who he still was inside had in him to push that dangerous man away.

"Please," he hurried, "he would kill me if he knew."

The man's initial angry stare turned into a scowl, than a sarcastic grin.

"Who says he has to know, darling?" he grabbed Yuuri again, this time burying his hands deep into the brunet's ass.

"He'll know," Yuuri whispered. "Please, I don't want to die."

"Boss," one of the goons interrupted. "We need to go."

Yuuri could swear the man was about to break something by the crazy look in his eyes.

"Don't worry, pretty boy. When Nikiforov is done with you, I'll wait. Something tells me you're a talented mouth. I'll make a fortune with you."

Yuuri felt his breath coming back slowly long after the man had left. The reality of Viktor's world, the harsh reality came crushing down on him. That evening, through the tears, he began repeating the coded message, turning it into a mantra until he finally fell asleep.

***

"What's with you, little one?" Viktor cooed softly, while taking Yuuri in his arms and kissing him gently. "Have you not slept well?"

"I need to tell you something, Viktor," Yuuri whispered into the man's ear. "Only you must hear it."

The smile on Viktor's face spoke volumes as he guided Yuuri towards the back of the cell. However, as Yuuri slowly began repeating the well learned sounds, his face began to change, deep lines setting, his demeanor cold. He sat on the bottom bed, linking his fingers together and staring at a point on the wall.

"Hey," Yuuri sat by him and touched his knee.

"You should not have done this, Yuuri. It's none of your business," Viktor said quickly.

"It was not like I could refuse," Yuuri protested.

"Again with this argument. If you were only a man about it all, no one could have pushed you around like a little bitch."

The words stung, rubbing Yuuri raw. Stiffly, he rose and leaned against the opposite wall.

"I'm sorry about being a little bitch. I suppose my family could have lived without their onsen. At least, I could be a man about it and say it proudly," he said, hoping his bitter irony would go through the other man.

Viktor shot him a strange glare.

"I mean it, Yuuri. Stay out of it."

"Too late."

"Then I'll stop calling for you."

Yuuri could not let show the effect those words had on him.

"Suit yourself," he said thinly. "After all, my next master has already announced himself. The only inconvenience will be that I will have to change owners."

Viktor's eyes became suddenly colder.

"What are you talking about, Yuuri?" he asked, his entire body taut with apprehension.

"About the man who announced his intention of taking me in his care, once you are done with me."

Yuuri had never heard Viktor curse. As the man rose and threw a heavy punch that rattled the metal frame of the beds, he stood there, fascinated with the silver haired man's display of strength.

"I need to get out of here," Viktor began pacing the room. "I cannot protect you like I should, being trapped in here."

"That cannot be helped, Viktor," Yuuri said sternly. "Don't do anything stupid. Not for my sake, at least."

Viktor's presence and growing anger were making the cell feel small. Yuuri made himself little against the wall. 

"I will talk to someone," Viktor said determinedly. "You will be sent back home and you'll never hear from me again."

"Are you sure this is going to help?" Yuuri crossed his arms over his chest. "They know where I live. They know my family. Are you really willing to condemn me like this?"

"Shit," Viktor slammed both palms against the bed frame. "You are not to take any messages, do you hear me?"

"He said your life's a stake."

"That's none of your business," Viktor snapped.

"I think it is. I confessed to you. Don't you think I'm entitled to care? What do you think I am?"

"A stupid man. That's what I think," Viktor glared at him.

Yuuri didn't flinch.

"You can stay there giving me the evil eye or you could find reason. If I'm the only one that can bring you those life or death messages, so be it. Just don't ask me not to care."

"You're frustrating," Viktor protested. "Don't come back to me, crying and whining when all these will just come and bite your ass."

"I think we're too far for that. I have no future either way."

Viktor shot him an extra evil glare.

"Is that so? No future? You have no idea how right you are. If you are caught, you're on your own. I'm here and my influence is limited. You will be tortured and killed. Don't you care?"

"Of course I do," Yuuri said defensively. "But my options are limited. Plus, I want you to be indebted to me," he added. "Only this way I can make sure that you'll not severe your connection with me."

Viktor stared at him, his eyes changing like capricious weather in the heart of April. 

"You seem so certain that this is what you want. I still need to ask. Is this really what you want? I know I'm your first man, and you may misplace some romantic thoughts on me, but trust me, Yuuri, dealing with mafia has nothing to do with love and romance."

"It's you. It has everything to do with love," Yuuri spoke back. "The first man who came, the old one, he seems to care about you a great deal. I felt like I could trust him. Just as much as the second man only made me feel fear."

Viktor's frown hardened.

"I will get my hands on him one day. If he dares touching you ... I won't allow anyone to make you feel fear."

"I fear for you more," Yuuri chose to interrupt. "If anything happened to you ... I don't know how I could live with knowing I could help, and I didn't. Please don't take this away from me, Viktor. Please allow me at least this or every word I said about me loving you would be nothing but a lie."

He was crowded by Viktor's taller frame. The man brought his lips to Yuuri's ear.

"That man, the one who came after, he can hurt you. If he believes you mean something more to me than a pretty face and a fine ass to plow, he will do everything in his power to use you against me. Not that he won't do that, anyway. I hate it, do you get it, Yuuri? You were forced on me, like I was forced on you. They hope to make a poisonous gift out of you. This is them moving. I don't know what they plan, but all I can tell you is that you should not be here. You should be back home, enjoying your normal life, not here, among criminals. Fuck, what am I going to do, Yuuri? Either way, I'm fucked."

Yuuri slid his arms to circle Viktor's slender waist.

"Just let me help. Unless you really think I'm just a pretty face and an ass to plow. I'd like to think I'm more."

"You know very well you're more," Viktor interrupted, pressing his hard body against Yuuri's.

"This is the only way out. You get a fighting chance, whatever your rivals are planning against you. And I will be happy, knowing that I can help."

"I promise this, Yuuri. Once this shitstorm ends, I will let you be. I'll be out of your life for good."

"Don't say this," Yuuri tried shutting the other up with a tender kiss. "You know how I feel about you. Don't make me say it. Know it's true."

"You deserve much better than this. I'm poison. For you, I'm even worse than poison. And I don't want you to live your life, looking over your shoulder, for the remainder of your days."

"Stop choosing for me," Yuuri warned, trying hard to quench the uneasy sensation nestling in his chest, as Viktor continued to threaten him with promises of breaking up.

Viktor's kiss was desperate when their lips connected again. Yuuri's body was hiked up, Viktor's erection rubbing against his crotch.

"You're making me crazy, you know that?"

“I do?” Yuuri asked, his fingers slowly taking in the shape of Viktor’s shoulder, slender and strong.

“Yeah,” Viktor whispered, his voice low and gentle, unlike his body, unyielding and strong, made to fit to Yuuri’s like peas in a pod.

Yuuri kissed him. He kissed this lover he had, gifted to him by accident, forced on him, as Viktor had said, a man who was from a different world, miles away, now colliding with his. Maybe it was bound to be a catastrophe, to end in tragedy, but he could not care less. The moment mattered, and right now, Yuuri was enraptured with how Viktor’s tongue against his felt, the scent of his skin, the soft moans making him sound like a lover, not a dangerous mafia boss who had been forced behind bars by enemies who wanted to get revenge on him for reasons Yuuri knew he could not understand even if he wanted to.

Viktor was doing nothing to move things forward, despite his kisses getting desperate, so Yuuri let his hands wander down a muscular back, clad in soft cotton, until he reached the guy’s waist. Pushing his hands past the waistband, he dared. Soon, his hands were filled with Viktor’s ass, and all he could think of was that the guy had a wonderful behind. 

He was on autopilot, as he parted the two round mounds, kneading them. Viktor stopped and his hooded eyes were speaking of desire, as his lips remained slightly open. 

“Would you like that?” Yuuri asked simply.

Viktor’s lips twitched, somewhere between a grimace and a smile. 

“I wish I could tell you the answer to that,” the Russian admitted.

Yuuri slowly removed his hands, and Viktor held him close.

“Don’t worry, I get it,” Yuuri said softly. “You’re mafia; you don’t get on your knees for anyone.”

To his surprise, Viktor just started laughing. 

“You’re really something, Yuuri, you know?”

“So I’ve been told,” Yuuri chose to be smug about it. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

“I’ve never … you know?” Viktor said, his voice low and smooth as silk.

“I suppose that goes without saying,” Yuuri retorted. “It’s just not done, right?”

“Right,” Viktor said plainly. “It’s bad enough as it is. Not that people who matter care about that. My enemies care, though. So they exploit it.”

“Is this really it?” Yuuri asked, a bit taken aback by Viktor’s admittance.

“Oh, no. It’s much more complicated. This is just an angle they work. They,” he chuckled, “believe that catering to my so-called deviation gives them the right to tell me what to do.”

“And does it?”

“When hell freezes over,” Viktor said with confidence. “It’s funny how their plan backfires, though. I think they would have a seizure knowing how we are. What you mean to me. But that would also seal your fate, so I won’t let anything … transpire. That means that I will have to beg your forgiveness, Yuuri.”

“What? What do you mean?” Yuuri asked, his heart in his throat.

Viktor massaged his nape slowly.

“We’ll have to act … a whole lot differently. You’re sent here to be a whore for me to use. They should not be able to tell you’re something else. Do you follow?”

Yuuri nodded slowly.

“So, when there are others close by, I’ll have to …”

“Treat me like shit?” Yuuri supplied the words, when Viktor hesitated to continue.

Viktor’s eyes slid away. Yuuri cupped the other man’s cheek in his palm.

“It’s okay, Viktor.”

The hand catching his was almost trembling with tension.

“No, it’s not. I … I want to show you the world, Yuuri. I want to … I don’t know, fuck you in Paris.”

Yuuri laughed.

“Hm, Paris … You do have expensive tastes.”

“So you’re expensive?” Viktor kissed slowly one marble hand, then another.

“Ha, ha, funny,” Yuuri blushed a little. “Do you know what I would like?”

“Please, tell me,” Viktor encouraged him, sniffing his neck and planting small kisses everywhere.

“I would like taking you with me to my parents’ onsen. I would introduce you to my parents, and then I would take you to my room, and then …”

There was a loud bang against the bars and Viktor took one step back, throwing Yuuri a meaningful look. Yuuri crouched and then stood up fast, while patting his lips, as if he was just finishing the job he had been sent to do. A short look of approval from Viktor told him he was doing the right thing.

The guard pushed the hung sheet away, and let Viktor’s cousin come in. 

“Tsk,” the short blond said, taking in Yuuri like he was looking at dirt. 

“Yuri, behave,” Viktor said shortly.

“Why? Are we forgetting who sent him here?” Yuri spat. 

Viktor’s eyes darkened as he looked at Yuri.

“No, we are not forgetting that. My associate decided to send me a means of entertainment.”

“I hope you collect from his ass what should be yours, anyway. Oh, well, I guess that’s not possible. That’s not how it’s done,” the blond added with a sneer which contorted his young face. 

“Yuri.”

Viktor’s voice had so many shades to it. Yuuri felt his blood freezing, despite the fact that he knew that wasn’t directed to him. The blond looked away and chose to climb on the upper bunk which probably belonged to him.

“I hope you two didn’t use my bed,” the young man said before turning his back to them and beginning to stare stubbornly at the wall in front of him.

“See you next time,” Viktor nodded at Yuuri. “I might have use for your mouth again.”

From his bed, Yuri made a sound that pretty much resembled someone wanting to throw up. Yuuri bowed politely. He chose not to look at the guard, as he was taken away.

“So still not bored with him, mister Nikiforov?” the guard asked, taking Yuuri by surprise.

This was not the same guy from before. This one stared at Viktor like he was evaluating the Russian. And his hand on Yuuri’s arm squeezed a bit too hard. 

“And what to do around here? It’s not like I have too many entertainment options.”

“Your associate sends regards,” the man tipped two fingers against his temple.

It must have been a harmless gesture, but for a brief second, Yuuri saw something in Viktor’s eyes. 

“The same here,” Viktor nodded solemnly, patting two stretched fingers against his chest.

Yuuri could not lie to himself. He was dragged, against his will, into a far more dangerous world than he could imagine. And still, he could not deny that he wanted to be there, and be of any help possible to Viktor. Even if it meant never being able to go back, to how things used to be. That was a lost dream, lost from the second strange men had come to destroy his parents’ onsen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone who wants to know, the villain is all mine, so he's an OC. And I guess you all know who the old man is. :)
> 
> Without further ado, I hope you liked it! And if you want to read small ficlets and naughty stuff set in the YOI universe, or just involving its lovely characters, please see my tumblr. 
> 
> Until next time,  
> Hugs


	6. The Day I Died

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I’m not sorry, love. Not about this. But,” Viktor added, his voice growing into a whisper, “I am sorry about one thing. Your parents will have to prepare a funeral.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, oh boy. There is a serious warning tag on the description of this story, and this chapter is one of the reasons for it. Please take it into account.

Ch. 6 – The Day I Died

For days, Yuuri could not sleep well. There was something, like a terrible sense of dread, growing inside him, plaguing his dreams. In the end, he just chose to wake up and train. Sweating off all the dark energy he felt was the only way to exhaust himself and eventually fall asleep.

At the same time, his senses were getting sharper. He could have done without jolting at every sound. Some days, he just stood in front of the door, wondering what will happen if he just went through it and left, somewhere far away from this place. 

But then his parents, Mari, everyone back home, would have had to be doomed. And that was not all. His mind could not stop his heart from asking: what about Viktor?

The phone rang. Its perfunctory chime sounded lonely, bouncing off the walls. 

“Yes?” he said slowly.

“I’m going to be short,” Viktor’s voice was harsh, ice in dark water. “I no longer require your services.”

“What?” Yuuri mumbled.

Your phone is tapped. He immediately remembered the old man’s words.

“I would prefer zero drama, if possible,” Viktor continued.

Even if it was not true, Yuuri’s heart sank. It still meant he was not going to see Viktor tomorrow. Against his better judgment, he squeezed the phone in his hand. 

“Can I …” he licked his lips, “can you at least give me a reason?”

Maybe this way, he was playing it better. After all, even if he was nothing but a toy to get discarded, that didn’t mean he had no soul.

Viktor’s laugh was hollow.

“Like sucking off my cousin? How is that for a reason?”

Yuuri felt his air getting knocked out of his lungs. That was way too harsh.

“I did no such thing. And your cousin … he’s just a kid.”

“He’s 20. That makes him a man. I can forgive him for being horny, but not you. You should have known better whom you belong to.”

Yuuri’s vision was slowly starting to blur. He wanted to say something, to keep Viktor on the line just a little more. There was a sigh on the other end.

“Wait,” he whispered.

“Don’t come tomorrow,” Viktor’s voice was suddenly softer, before he cut off the conversation.

Something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong. People’s lives are at stake, the old man’s words rang in his ears. And Viktor was keeping him away from it. Behind harsh words and false accusations, that had to be it. He hadn’t known the man for long, but it had to be it. Otherwise, Yuuri was certain his heart was going to weep and beg for something he was not entitled to.

***

The man in black suit by his door was staring him down.

“Why aren’t you ready?” the heavy accent grated his ear and his stretched nerves.

“Mr. Nikiforov does not require my services. He made it clear to me over the phone,” Yuuri replied, not moving from the door and not inviting the man in.

It was the first time when the driver came to his door. He had no idea what the protocol had to be, given the circumstances.

“That’s not for him to decide. Or you,” the man spoke. “Get ready in 5.”

Yuuri’s own sense of preservation was screaming at him to come up with something, with some sort of excuse, like a stomach flu, or anything, but, at the same time, his heart was talking louder. This had to be the final time he could see Viktor. Was he willing to sacrifice himself for it? 

Hasetsu and his family seemed memories from a different life. What did he have left in the world, anyway? 

“Alright,” he said.

He was in the car in three minutes. For the duration of their trip to the prison, he kept his hands in his lap, and his eyes down, while on the inside, he was trying nothing else but to keep breathing.

***

He was pushed inside Viktor’s cell by the same guardian from last time. Both Viktor and Yuri looked at him startled, the first with something akin to fear, the other in just pure disbelief.

“I heard your cousin sampled the goods. He has two usable holes, doesn’t he? You two can work him at both ends,” the guardian joked as he closed the door behind Yuuri. “Enjoy.”

“What are you doing here?”

“What is he doing here?”

Both Russians spoke at the same time. Yuuri took a step back, gluing his back against the cold bars. 

“I was made to,” he whispered, ashamed that he was telling half a lie. 

Viktor covered his face with his hands and an expletive followed. His cousin began speaking rapidly in Russian, while Viktor was replying only from time to time, in a colder and colder voice.

“I’m not taking care of him,” the younger male finally spoke in English and pointed an accusing finger at Yuuri.

“Well, you’ll have to,” Viktor replied, staring his cousin down. 

“Or what?” Yuri set his chin up.

“Or you’re not my family anymore,” Viktor replied.

“Wait, what is going on? You don’t have to fight because of me,” Yuuri tried to intervene.

“You,” Viktor looked at him, “stay by Yuri’s side, no matter what happens.”

“No matter what happens?! Can you please tell me …”

The alarm made the hairs on his head stand. The door behind him suddenly opened, making him feel weightless, all of a sudden.

“Here we go,” Viktor ducked and took something hidden under his mattress.

Yuri mirrored his moves. Yuuri could feel cold sweat pooling at the small of his back. What were those? They looked like improvised … weapons? 

Yuri juggled his shiv and stuck it inside his sleeve. Viktor just pressed his against his forearm. His face was stone, but his eyes were burning.

“Get behind, love,” he told Yuuri, throwing him one pained look. “It’s no time for me to say I’m sorry. Just trust Yuri with your life.”

Yuuri didn’t have to be told twice. He quickly slid past Viktor, touching his hand, the one with the improvised knife, in passing. Viktor just looked at him for a fraction of a second. Some stupid quote, about men marching to meet their fate, crossed his mind. 

He followed close, as they moved out of the cell. Yuuri could feel his heart beating wildly. All the cells were open and there were clothes and toilet paper flowing everywhere. Inmates were pouring out, and there was so much noise that he had to press his hands over his ears. In the distance, he saw a guard reaching for his holster, but in a second the man was grabbed by two prisoners and the next he was down on the floor, bleeding from a chest wound.

He wanted to vomit and scream at the same time. But all he could do was to follow the two Russians closely. At some point, he almost crushed against Viktor’s back, like they were suddenly hitting a wall. He could feel the man tensing, for the slightest moment, and then something in his peripheral vision, moved, making the rail rattle. 

Not something. Someone. He stared at the body sprawled on the bottom floor, looking like a broken mannequin. Yuri pulled him by his arm and he just moved.

He had no idea how they reached an adjacent corridor. The ruckus was dying away now. Viktor pulled him into a short hug, and then took a turn to the left. Yuuri made a move to go after him, but the blond grabbed his elbow.

“He has business,” the younger male said curtly. “Let’s go and hope I don’t have to defend your ass, or Viktor will have mine.”

Yuuri nodded.

“Oh, shit, I didn’t mean it like that,” the blond began rambling, his eyes wide. “Viktor is not after my ass.”

“No need to apologize,” Yuuri waved his hands.

“I wasn’t,” Yuri protested.

If the situation wasn’t so fucked up, Yuuri would have laughed. Maybe he was getting hysterical. Every step they made, every turn they took, he was expecting someone to just jump them.

“Oh, yeah,” Yuri said victoriously next to him, as he grabbed the handle to a door. “What the fuck?” he shook it. “This was supposed to be open.”

Yuuri looked over his shoulder. Not far away, behind a corner, … was that an arm laying on the floor? The sleeve seemed to belong to a guardian’s uniform.

“Looking for this?” a tall guy in his late 30s spoke, taking both by surprise, from the other side.

The man’s eyes held a mean dark light in them, and his unshaved face was crooked in what could have been described as a smile. He was dangling a key in front of them, keeping it with just two fingers. Yuri eyed the man, and began circling him, with slow moves.

“You know, little Yuri, I feel the need to remember right now how you refused to give me head,” the man laughed, showing missing teeth.

Yuuri felt a wave of disgust rushing down his spine. 

“And I remember how you refused to become the dickless wonder,” Yuri hissed. “Give me that, asshole.”

“No way,” the man held his hand higher.

He looked like a prisoner, but Yuuri could not tell anymore. There was just a thin line between good and evil, and guardians were not necessarily on the good side, from what he recalled from earlier. 

“Who’s the pretty boy over there? Is that Viktor’s precious fucktoy?”

“None of your business, wanker,” Yuri slowly took out his shiv.

Yuuri was feeling like he was gasping for air. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion, as Yuri moved fast and … missed. The tall man grabbed him and turned him with his back at him. Yuri was trying to get away, but his struggles seemed useless. The prisoner was sniffing his hair and laughing.

“Let him go,” Yuuri clenched his fists.

The man stopped for a second.

“Come closer, fucktoy, I have plenty for both of you,” the guy made a move to grab his balls through his pants.

That was the only opening he needed. Yuuri struck the man in the throat swiftly, missing Yuri’s ear by less than an inch. The prisoner fell to the ground, grabbing his neck, and making a horrible sound. Yuuri felt paralyzed. He had taken some martial arts classes more on a whim, but now, he could witness the efficiency of that blow firsthand.

He woke up from his trance when Yuri jumped on the man’s chest and drove his shiv straight through his chest. The man’s desperate screams faded into a bubbling like sound. Yuuri lost balance, took a few steps back, and slid down the wall. When Yuri got to his feet, all he could look at was how blood was dripping from the blond’s hand, down the rugged blade. The front of his shirt was ruined, too, and there were splotches of red on his face. Through all this, the Russian looked sinister but happy.

“We have the key,” Yuri showed him the glinting object in his other hand. 

Yuuri just nodded, without a sound. He looked behind, at the man bleeding on the floor. One of his hands was wide open, his fingers stretching like they were trying to reach something. 

“No time for you to have an epiphany or something,” Yuri said gruffly and pushed him through the door.

The daylight seemed unnatural, compared to the artificial light inside. Yuuri blinked and let himself dragged away by the blond. 

“There was a man there, lying on the floor,” Yuuri stopped. “He was the one who was supposed to let us out, right?”

Yuri grimly nodded.

“We should get back and help him,” the spoke and made a move to turn.

Yuri tackled him from behind. He spoke into Yuuri’s ear.

“Don’t get nuts or Viktor will have my balls, idiot. That man is dead, okay? And in five minutes, the intervention teams will be all over the place. They’ll shoot on sight and this is the only opportunity we have. Now move your ass, or I swear to God, I leave you here and I don’t give a fuck if Viktor leaves me childless.”

Yuuri nodded and let himself helped to his feet. Yuri pushed him to move, this time staying behind to make sure he wasn’t going to bolt again.

Soon, they were somewhere near a back gate that opened before them like they said the magic word. 

When both of them landed on the back of a black Merc, Yuuri was startled to see Viktor already there. 

“What took you two so long?” Viktor inquired, looking first at his cousin, then at Yuuri.

“Some situation,” Yuri waved.

“A messy one, it seems. What did I tell you about messy, Yura?” Viktor chided the blond, but Yuuri could tell there was relief in his voice. “Look at your shirt,” he added, pursing his lips.

“Whatever. You’re not my mom,” Yuri spoke as he looked out the window. The engine started rolling. “Did you take care of business?”

“Of course,” Viktor replied. 

Yuuri wasn’t sure whether he was shivering or only imagining things. Viktor gathered him closely. 

“Are you okay, love?” he asked, visibly concerned.

Yuri snorted.

“Right. Your boy here, Viktor, he just knocked a guy cold with a punch to the throat.”

Viktor smiled and his eyes were filled with something Yuuri can only read as pride. The man hugged him tightly.

“Aren’t you full of surprises?”

“How come you’re a whore if you can punch a guy like that?” the blond inquired. 

“Yura, don’t be a dick,” Viktor said coolly. 

“It wasn’t a choice,” Yuuri replied, placing one hand over Viktor’s to calm the man down. “And one must know to choose his battles.”

“Did you hear that, Yura?” Viktor chuckled. “You could learn something from Yuuri.”

Yuuri wanted so much the two cousins to just stop goading each other like that. But, to his surprise, the blond admitted defeat. 

“I guess I could. Like that mean punch.”

Yuuri looked at Yuri and the blond looked back. There was curiosity in the young man’s eyes, no longer disdain. 

“Now, there is one more thing I have to do,” Viktor spoke.

He said something to the driver in Russian, and he was handed a phone.

“Yes, it all went swell,” he spoke quickly. “There’s one more favor I need to ask. I need a body.”

Yuuri felt his blood curling. But there was no turning back. Viktor caressed his neck slowly, looking at him.

“About 5.8. Asian. Make sure his face cannot be recognized. Yes, at the scene. More candidates than one?”

Viktor’s chuckle made Yuuri want to vomit again. 

“I always pay my debts. That goes without saying. I’m counting on you to get this through,” the man added and handed the phone back to the driver.

“Viktor, what are you doing? Will someone die because of me?” Yuuri caught the man by the front of his sweater. 

“Did you really have to fall for a guy with so much conscience?” Yuri asked from the other side. “He’ll be trouble.”

“None of your business, Yura,” Viktor replied, but his eyes were set on the Japanese. “Don’t worry, Yuuri,” he said, in a much softer voice. “The body count down at the prison is rising. They’ll just have to pick someone looking as much as you as possible. I’m not sorry, love. Not about this. But,” Viktor added, his voice growing into a whisper, “I am sorry about one thing. Your parents will have to prepare a funeral.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to remember all kinds of stuff from prison shows I had watched when I wrote this. I hope it was 'real' enough. Please let me know your thoughts, and also know that I love you for reading and commenting.
> 
> Until next time,  
> Hugs and kisses.


	7. Here’s to the Flip Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri and Yuri become friends. Yuuri finally gets around to cook katsudon, but why is Viktor still hungry?

Grey, grey, grey, it was all Yuuri could see, as he stared out the window. But it was warm inside, and Viktor’s damp cheek, as it rested against his, while the guy was embracing him from behind, was warm, too.

“I know it’s not the vacation I promised you,” Viktor chuckled softly into his ear, as he withdrew with a small popping sound from Yuuri’s ass.

“I think I find it entertaining enough,” Yuuri spoke softly, and he turned, trying not to wince too much as he moved.

Viktor’s warm sperm was pouring down his thighs. The man’s flushed cheeks made his alabaster skin look like the guy was a beautiful statue brought to life. Yuuri pushed down his hard-on, trying to ignore the fact that Viktor hadn’t cared about getting him off this time.

The Russian looked him up and down, with a small smile. 

“You’re hard.”

“It’s nothing,” Yuuri shook his head and cast his eyes down. “It will go away.”

“Away where?” Viktor licked his lips.

Yuuri felt his cock twitching. With a grimace, he squeezed it to behave. Now Viktor was a bit sadistic, if not a total brat to tease him like this. He wondered how much it would take the man to get it up again. This time, Yuuri was determined to rub his own dick. Or maybe he could just go take a shower and do it there. The image of the man sprawled on the bed, his dick still a bit moist from lube and cum, had to be enough material to get him off.

“I’ll go take a shower,” Yuuri gestured for the bathroom door.

“I’ll come with you.”

Ah, damn it, Yuuri’s face turned all sour. It didn’t serve to see Viktor’s cock, still half hard, bouncing happily.

“Alright,” he said with resignation and let the man guide him.

Under the warm spray, Yuuri relaxed a bit. Viktor was slowly massaging his shoulders, his hands descending afterward, to caress his flanks, and then his ass. 

“Viktor,” he breathed out. “Could we … go at it again?”

The silver-haired man hummed in response. Was that a yes? Oh, all kami-samas in the universe, please make that a yes, Yuuri pleaded wordlessly. 

“Hands on the wall,” Viktor ordered.

Yuuri obeyed and released one small grunt of pleasure, as Viktor easily pushed his cock inside him. He took one hand away from the wall, wanting this time to make it all worth it. 

“What did I tell you?” Viktor chided him. “Hands on the wall.”

Was the guy kidding or something? With a huff, Yuuri rested his palms against the wall again. He was getting a bit pissed and annoyed, and not even Viktor’s steady pounding felt good enough now. Whatever, he was going to focus on that.

“Yes, there, Viktor,” he whispered, as he wiggled his ass to allow deeper penetration.

The guy changed his angle. Yuuri had never cursed in his life. At least, he couldn’t remember that he had. But, right now, he wanted to do it so badly. It was like Viktor was denying him release on purpose. 

He shifted his position to have Viktor brush against that secret spot inside him. Yes, it was beginning to feel so good. The Russian was pounding into him hard and he was getting closer, closer, closer …

“Get on your knees,” Viktor ordered and this time Yuuri almost yelled in frustration.

But he obediently moved and let the guy pushed his head to the right angle and spray his face all over. 

Now he was pissed. He wiped away the droplets of cum that got into his eyelashes and mumbled something to himself. Viktor placed an affectionate kiss on the crown of his head.

“Good boy,” the Russian praised him.

What could be the punishment for strangling one certain Viktor Nikiforov? It couldn’t be that bad, Yuuri thought. 

“I still need to wash,” Yuuri spoke, a little clipped.

“Let me,” Viktor returned to his languorous washing, brushing by Yuuri’s cock just in passing.

At the end of it, Yuuri was very clean, thank you very much, and very pissed and sexually frustrated. 

***

Why he had to be here in the first place? Yuuri eyed the people around the table warily. The old man with the message was present, too. Yakov Feltsman was his name, he had learned. He felt a bit ashamed that he was there, somewhere he did not belong. He could feel pairs of eyes brush by him, every now and then. They were probably wondering.

“These people are your friends, Yuuri Katsuki,” the old man spoke, as he sat next to him and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Viktor may seem a bit of an airhead, but he’s invaluable to us.”

“As a professional?” Yuuri wondered out loud.

“As family,” the man said solemnly, and Yuuri wanted to bite his tongue. “That is why you are welcome to stay with us. Don’t mind them. They’re just curious. Plus, you’re Japanese. That makes you a bit of an exotic find.”

“How is Viktor airheaded? He always seems so leveled,” Yuuri asked, interested now in finding more about his lover.

Especially leveled when he was all about getting his way and giving nothing in return, he remembered the events from last night.

“He’s a bit impulsive. Sometimes he daydreams. He’s been this way since he was a child. But he’s brilliant. Everything he touches, he turns into gold.”

But he won’t touch my dick, Yuuri thought sourly, and then blushed. Why was his mind meandering to stuff like that all of a sudden? He blushed.

“I’m sorry, Feltsman-san,” he apologized, earning a surprised look from the old man.

“What for? And call me Yakov.”

“For … imposing. I’m not supposed to be here.”

“You are, and we don’t regret it. Thanks to you, we have both Viktor and Yuri safe back home with us. You’re a good man, Yuuri. Now, if you’ll excuse me, it’s my turn to speak.”

Yuuri nodded. It was all in Russian, so he could not understand a thing. He sat on a chair next to the wall, away from the table, much like he was extra. Which he was.

He was taken by surprise by someone plopping onto a chair next to him.

“How about we skip this boring shit?” Yuri elbowed him.

“But what would Viktor …”

“Are you like his dog or something? By the way, he already has one.”

“A dog?””

“Yeah, she’s going to be sent over here this week, and then you can sleep on the couch,” Yuri commented merrily like he was already picturing Yuuri struggling to make different sleeping arrangements. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Where?” Yuuri asked.

“Somewhere fun,” Yuri grinned at him.

He could let Viktor know somehow, maybe through a short text, without disturbing the meeting. But Yuuri still felt miffed over being left to dry, and a tiny bit rebellious. So he marched out of the room, without even sparing Viktor a glance. By the way the conversation in Russian stopped for a moment, his exit must not have gone unnoticed.

***

“Come on,” Yuri’s eyes sparkled. “Show me that move.”

Yuuri looked around. The track suit lent by Yuri was a bit small, and he had to wonder if his ass showed too much. 

“That’s quite a dangerous move. You shouldn’t use it,” he told Yuri.

“No shit. Tell that to the guy you knocked cold.”

And you killed, Yuuri wanted to add, but everything felt surreal enough, without complications like making Yuri Plisetsky want to bust his balls. 

“Come on,” Yuri added and took a fighting stance with his fists raised.

Yuuri still remembered the martial arts lessons he took. And teaching Yuri something was still more fun than attending a meeting where all people spoke Russian and he could not understand a thing. He began explaining and making Yuri mimic his moves.

At the end of two hours straight, they were both sweaty and tired.

“Now I understand what Viktor sees in you,” Yuri spoke while breathing hard.

“Really?” Yuuri joked, now more at ease with the rambunctious blond. 

“You got like really good stamina. How come you don’t feel like murdered already? I can barely feel my body,” Yuri groaned.

“It’s something from my skating days, I guess,” Yuuri shrugged.

“Skating? Cool,” Yuri admitted. “Get cleaned up, ‘cause after that, we’re going to grab a bite.”

***

“What’s this?” Yuuri asked, taking another mouthful.

“Pirozhki,” Yuri offered promptly. “Do you like it?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty awesome,” Yuuri admitted and Yuri’s face lit up.

“I know, right? It’s like my favorite food,” Yuri spoke, looking very much excited. “But you should eat the ones my grandpa makes. They’re pure heaven,” the blond spoke reverently, his eyes becoming slightly unfocused for a second or two.

“I’d love having some,” Yuuri said. 

“What’s your favorite food?” Yuri asked. “I bet it’s something Japanese.”

“Yes,” Yuuri began, feeling energetic after the delicious meal shared with Yuri, in a place that looked much like a family restaurant, with soft music and warm lights. He would not have pegged the youngster as someone frequenting that sort of eatery. “It’s called katsudon, and it’s like a pork cutlet bowl, with fried rice. It’s really tasty!”

“Tastier than pirozhki?” Yuri challenged him through the never missing bang of blond hair covering one eye.

Yuuri hesitated.

“I should say … no, since it’s the polite thing, but, Yuri, trust me, you have to eat katsudon first and let your own taste buds be the judge.”

“Do you know how is made?” Yuri asked, placing both elbows on the table, and watching Yuuri closely.

“Yes,” Yuuri nodded.

“Do you think you can make some?” Yuri got all excited. “Like tonight?”

“Sure, if we can find all the ingredients, why not?” Yuuri smiled, feeling contaminated by the younger male’s enthusiasm.

“Let’s go shopping, then, but, before that, how about putting that old body of yours to work a little more?”

“Do you want to go back to the gym again?” Yuuri asked.

“No, to the ice rink.”

“The ice rink? Can you skate?”

Yuri took an offended stance, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Everyone in Russia can skate.”

“Of course, I apologize. What I meant to say, is do you like it?”

Yuri shrugged.

“It’s more like I want to see your pro moves, Katsudon.”

“Katsudon?”

“Yeah, it’s kind of a cool nickname, isn’t it?”

It was not like he could prevent Yuri from giving him a nickname. But really, Katsudon?

***

He was happily dressing the table, while Yuri was talking, telling some really strange stories involving him and Viktor, ever since the blond had joined the organization. Yuuri had particularly asked to be spared any gruesome details, especially since it looked like Viktor was the number one character in Yuri’s recounts. 

It was a bit unsettling, to be made privy to such information. But, as little as he knew Yuri, he understood that it simply meant that Viktor’s cousin had trust in him. And that counted a lot. 

“Have you spoken to Viktor? Is he coming to dinner?” he tried to speak casually, without feeling too guilty about not seeing his lover for the entire day. 

Yuri nodded.

“Damn, this stuff tastes amazing,” Yuri sniffed his plate. “Viktor should better come soon, or I’ll eat his, too.”

“You will do what?”

Yuuri turned towards the door to face Viktor who had his eyes on him, while he was apparently speaking to his cousin.

“Welcome home,” Yuuri said warmly, blushing a little.

Was it okay to call home some place in a faraway land where he was nothing but a stranger? Viktor walked towards him and placing one hand on his waist, he kissed him quickly on the mouth. It was just a short peck, but it was making Yuuri feel weak to the knees.

“Whew, do you really have to? Some people are still straight around here,” Yuri commented, and Yuuri blushed.

He tried to push Viktor away gently, but the man pulled him closer.

“Jealous?” Viktor asked, and chuckled softly.

What was it about this man that was making Yuuri want to lean in into his touch? His voice, his smell, were now familiar, and yes, this felt like home, because Viktor was here, and where Viktor was, he felt safe.

“Shut up,” Yuri spat.

“When are you going to get a girlfriend?”

“When you’ll lose all your hair.”

“Oh, so you’re planning on staying a virgin for the next 50 years?”

“Dream on, old man,” Yuri showed teeth. “Everyone knows you’re getting bald.”

“Yuuri, am I getting bald?” Viktor asked him, all of a sudden.

Well, there was a bit of a receding line, if he looked closer, but that could not mean anything of the kind.

“No,” he said solemnly.

“See?” Viktor turned triumphantly towards Yuri.

“He’s Japanese, he’s just being polite,” Yuri glared.

“Are you just being polite, Yuuri?” Viktor looked him in the eyes, and this time, he seemed really concerned.

“No, no, it’s really not the case,” he waved his hands, becoming a little agitated. “Please have a seat. I hope you will enjoy the meal.”

Viktor nodded shortly and pulled back a chair. Yuuri could not miss the way Yuri was stealing glances in his cousin’s direction, smiling, and barely waiting to say something.

“So, how did you two spend the day?” Viktor asked, looking straight at Yuuri, and making him fidget in his chair.

“Well, seeing that Katsudon and I were bored out of our minds …” Yuri started, instantly jumping on the opportunity.

“Katsudon?” Viktor asked, intrigued.

“That’s your home boy here. And actually, what’s on your plate, too. So, if you’re ever in the mood to eat Katsudon …”

“Yuri, you’re too young for this kind of conversation,” Viktor interrupted his cousin.

“Too young? I’m 20, and you just told me to get a girlfriend! And I’m not a virgin, fuckwad!”

“Yura, language,” Viktor said sternly and the blond stopped, looking miffed, but a little chastised nonetheless.

“Anyways, we went to the gym, then we ate pirozhki, and then I took Katsudon to an ice rink.”

Viktor’s eyes grew cold, and Yuuri stared into his plate. Of course, Viktor had promised to take him skating, and now it felt like he went cheating behind his back. The ice rink had been fun, and being acknowledged by the little brat had been fun, too. 

“I see,” Viktor said, and pretended to be interested in all Yuri was happily sharing.

Yuuri remained silent throughout the meal, just answering politely to the others’ words of praise regarding his cooking. Something was wrong, and he could tell by the way Viktor was speaking, or looking at him. He was sure he was going to have it rough, but he had no idea how to prepare for that.

“Have some,” Viktor gestured for the glass in front of him. “You must have gotten at least a bit used to vodka, right?”

He nodded and gulped the drink in one go, pretending he didn’t need to cough. 

“You’re turning Russian, Katsudon?” Yuri teased him. “Another,” the blond gestured for his cousin to pour another round.

Viktor and Yuri continued to talk, a mingle of Russian and English, just to make sure they were not making Yuuri feel bad. And he drank, and drank until he lost count.

***

“Wow, wow, wow, steady there,” Viktor kept him straight on his feet, as he opened the door to their suite. 

“I think I had a bit too much to drink,” Yuuri slurred the words. “But I’m not sorry,” he giggled.

“Funny,” Viktor commented dryly.

The silver-haired man was clearly holding his liquor a lot better than him. Strangely enough, Yuuri felt quite energetic, despite the booze making his brain a little mushy. It was like all his muscles were aching for action.

Entering the suite, he began undressing, throwing clothes everywhere. 

“If this is supposed to be a striptease show, you’re doing it all wrong,” Viktor commented, although a bit amused.

“It’s not,” Yuuri threw over his shoulder. “And you’re the teaser … a cockteaser.”

“Oh,” Viktor said matter-of-factly. “Am I?”

“Yeah,” Yuuri spoke, as he pushed his hair back. “I haven’t come for more than 24 hours, and you’re just a prick.”

Should he had been sober, he would have trembled at the look in Viktor’s eyes. But he was drunk as fuck, and he could not care less. He pointed a finger at his lover.

“You used me like an ona-hole, and I got nothing,” he said.

“Are you sure you want to point that finger at me, Yuuri?” Viktor’s voice was silky and dangerous.

“Actually, I want to shove it up your ass,” Yuuri said boldly, making blue eyes shine.

“Oh, really? Why? You have nothing better to shove up my ass?” Viktor crossed his arms and stared at Yuuri, waiting.

Yuuri gulped. Through his liquor-fogged mind, there was a trigger starting to blink.

“I sure have,” he said as he grabbed his cock and his balls in one hand. 

“With all the vodka you got in you, you still manage to be so hard?” Viktor pointed at his nether parts with one hand, while he used the other to rub his chin pensively.

“Yeah,” Yuuri shrugged. “I’m always hard when I’m in the same room with you. Wait, are you trying to change the subject?”

“What subject?” Viktor challenged him with his eyes.

“You being a cockteaser, and me having to shove something up your ass.”

“Actually,” Viktor drew closer, moving slowly, like a feline, “I was hoping you would finally get to that point.”

“What point?”

“You know,” Viktor’s hand wandered lower, touching briefly Yuuri’s cock. “When you’ll finally flip.”

“Flip?” Yuuri gulped.

“Yeah,” Viktor nodded and his lips now connected with Yuuri’s mouth, kissing gently. 

Yuuri whined into the kiss. It was too good, and Viktor’s soft voice made everything slow down, even the rhythm of his heart. He relaxed gradually and, when his back hit the bed, his eyes snapped open.

On top of him, Viktor’s eyes shone with something akin to hunger. But what could it possibly be? Hadn’t the katsudon at dinner been enough to stave off his appetite?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He, he, can you guys guess what Viktor wants? I bet only Yuuri is still oblivious ;)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks a lot for reading! If you like M/M romance, check out [my original fiction blog](https://laurasfox-originals.tumblr.com).


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